


Make Me A Masterpiece

by fictionaldesires



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, Social Media, The Gangs All Here, art student rapunzel, literature nerd eugene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2020-05-19 17:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19361227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionaldesires/pseuds/fictionaldesires
Summary: In her final year of college, Rapunzel is struggling to create her final art project. That is until she runs into the beautiful stranger who’s hiding out in the library.or: the one where art student Rapunzel uses literature nerd Eugene as her model (modern-day au)





	1. We Were In Screaming Colour

 

                                          
                                        

 

 

 

 

Staring disapprovingly at her freshly painted canvas, Rapunzel keeps on coming back to one conclusion. Everything is wrong. There are colours in the wrong place and gaps where there shouldn't be and shapes that don't match and it's all just _so wrong_.

 

She has been at this for hours now and somehow this attempt looks even worse than those that came before - the same ones that are now lying on the wooden floor around her left abandoned. This attempt came saw the addition of a different brush with the intention of improving the flow of the strokes, making them softer, a little more delicate. But it’s quite clear now as she stares at the result that the change did absolutely nothing.

 

She has been told a countless number of times in class that art gets better with time and that first attempts are always disasters and yet, in this case, things actually seem to be depleting. Almost as if with every fresh canvas she begins, she loses another fundamental art skill. This time around: the ability to hold a paintbrush apparently.

 

The quickly growing shadow on the canvas lets her know that the sun is starting to disappear for the day and that is a good indication as any that she's been agonising over this painting for far too long. The campus outside has thinned to only a few lonely stragglers, the professors have all retired for the day and a sharp there is a cramp in her left wrist that is starting to make it's presence known. Everything is screaming at her to call it quits. That is except from the four blank canvases in the middle of the room staring her down. Haunting her more like, ridiculing her even. And as the quiet moments pass, she swears she can actually hear them whispering.

 

_Give up Rapunzel._ _You've already failed Rapunzel._ _You have nothing left to give Rapunzel_.

 

And when you have three inanimate objects literally talking to you, there is only one option left at this point and that is to believe them. So she does. She fully accepts that only three weeks into her final year of college she's already failed miserably.

 

The thing that is most frustrating about all of this is that Rapunzel is usually pretty good at coming up with ideas. In fact, most of the time she doesn’t even need to think about what it is that she’s going to create. It just happens. One minute she is sat with a clean paintbrush in hand and the next she finds the walls themselves coated in colours and patterns she didn’t even know she was creating. Art just flows out of her. So why was this project giving her so much damn trouble?

 

Aggravation swarming her, she throws out her free hand, swiping it across the canvas sending incomplete work number 13 crashing down to where it belongs - on the dirty floor with the other disasters.

 

“Lashing out like that isn’t going to get it done any quicker.”

 

She’s startled slightly at the voice coming from behind her, so lost in her own frustration that she had completely forgotten for a second that she wasn’t alone. _Stupid canvases and their stupid distracting taunts_. Letting out a muffled curse under her breath, she flings her overused brush onto the floor and spins quickly to face her judgemental roommate, finger pointing at her accusingly.

 

“ _That_ is not helping Cass”.

 

Sitting crossed legged on top of one of the paint-stained tables, Cassandra lifts up her last reaming orange slice and pops it into her mouth seemingly un-phased by her friend's struggles. If anything, Rapunzel is a little surprised that she’s still here.

 

“You never asked for my help Raps. You said you wanted company.” Her hand waves dramatically in a circle around herself. "I'm the company." It's said so smugly that Rapunzel has every intention of giving her the same treatment she just gave to incomplete work number 13.

 

"Yes, company, not a judgemental commentary." Rapunzel snaps back, picking up the closest wet rag on the floor and launching it in her friend's direction. The squelching sound it makes when it collides with the side of Cassandra's face is priceless. Her facial expression, however, is not and Rapunzel would pay any amount of money right now to avoid the truly pissed off glare she’s receiving. The glare that grows even more furious as Cass slaps the cloth onto the table and snatches up the plastic cup beside her, shaking it vigorously in Rapunzel’s direction.

 

"If you insist on limiting me to one coffee during this company thing I suggest you don't try that again."

 

Rapunzel rolls her eyes at that, bounces towards the table and grips Cass firmly by the chin, swinging her head back and forth lightly. When she speaks her voice is oozing complete and utter sweetness. "Did grumpy Cass not get what she wanted". She throws a pout in there just for fun. Right on cue, her cooing hands are promptly smacked away by Cassandra’s fighting ones and she fully knows she’s going to feel the sting later on. But right now she is far too amused with how disgusted her friend looks.

 

"Did you _not_ just hear my warning?"

 

Oh, she did, loud and clear, but she's not worried at all. It’s one of the things she loves most about Cassandra, something she discovered pretty early on in their roommate journey. She comes across all vicious and guarded to anyone on the outside, but when it comes to Rapunzel she's nothing but a big softie. Sure there are moments where she squirms and bites and even hisses - quite literally - yet she is undoubtedly the best friend that Rapunzel has ever had. The list may have already started off quite limited but even if there were hundreds of names on that list, this girl would still soar right to the top. Smile still wide on her face, she reaches out to snatch up the coffee cup and is not surprised in the slightest when Cass lets her, despite only seconds earlier complaining about how little she has had today.

 

"I'm just trying to avoid another sparring incident” she utters calmly taking a few sips of the far too bitter coffee.

 

Cass’ eyes narrow, the beginnings of a smirk forming on her lips. "That was an accident and you know it".

 

"You broke off the leg of an easel and threw it across the room like a javelin."

 

“I knocked over that statue you hated didn’t I? So don’t say I never do anything for you.”

 

Okay so maybe she’s right about that. The wooden spear she sent flying crashed into the centuries-old statue that stood in the corner of the workshop and caused it to shatter into a million pieces. It was beyond hideous and for weeks the whole class kept giving their thanks to Rapunzel for its destruction, but she will never let Cass know that.

 

Another sigh escapes her lips, it’s more defeated this time than anything else and she can’t help but smile sadly when she feels Cass’ hands land on her shoulders. The much needed calming sensation attracts all of her focus that she barely even registers her body being turned back around to face the abandoned easels. In the few minutes of space she’s had from the painting it appears to have become even worse. 

 

“Rapunzel” Cassandra begins keeping her voice as quiet as the world around them “do you know what I see when I look at these paintings?”

 

"Failure."

 

“No, I see a work in progress." She uses her grip to spin Rapunzel back around to face her, face determined and fearless. "You’ve been at this for hours now Raps and I refuse to accept you giving up after all that effort.”

 

There’s a slight pause before Cass is jumping up off the table and is marching right past Rapunzel to the place where her materials are still scattered around the studio. All Rapunzel can do is watch on dumbfounded as her friend zooms around the room collecting all the discarded pens and sketchbooks and everything else she threw across the room in her frustration. There's a few hidden under tables and a couple stuck on shelves and even on that managed to find it's way into a plant by the window. 

 

"Okay" Cassandra begins, shovelling all of the now gathered supplies into Rapunzel's arms, albeit a little messy and totally unstable. "Listen up. You are the most talented person I know and when it comes to art there is nothing you can not do. So you need to get off your ass, stop feeling sorry for yourself and go find some inspiration." She takes a pause only to return her hands onto Rapunzel's shoulders, giving her a hefty shove in the direct of the door. "You are not trapped in here, Rapunzel. You’re always telling me that art is a way to express life, so get out there and live it. Who knows what you will find.”

 

There really isn't much for her to say after that, doesn't think she would be able to manage much anyway with how forceful she's being pushed out the door, but she manages to turn her head just enough to level a look at Cass, her eyes gleaming. "Who knew Cassandra had a soft side." 

 

She gets a groan in return and another push across the threshold, a pen colliding to the floor as collateral. 

 

“One coffee Raps, _one coffee_.”

 

 

                                                                                                         ☀      ☀      ☀

 

 

It only takes her five seconds to realise that she made a huge mistake coming here. She's barley stepped into the building , still dressed in her coat and scarf, when she notices the large amount of people swarming the library. Of course, with this library being the only of it's kind on this side of campus it's numbers were a little higher than the other, but at this time she never really anticipated this many people would still be here. 

 

There are people _everywhere_. There's people crammed onto tiny tables, people squashed in between the rows of books, people quite literally jumping on others to snatch up any newly available computer. A quick glance around tells her that the staff is nowhere to be found and is most likely hiding for their own safety.

 

She's a little clumsy as she manoeuvres her way through the people, squeezing between bodies here and there, but no one is really paying her any attention. Not even the blonde girl she nearly squashes as one of her sketchbooks lets itself loose from her pile and lands directly in the girl's lap. She seems far too interested in the French book she has open on the floor to notice she was almost just murdered. Rapunzel offers up a shy smile anyway and a quick apology before rushing off and disappearing from sight. She continues to make her way through each section, managing to weave her way past students and delving deeper into the depths of dusty books. Thankfully though, the loud noises of all the fussing seem to fade away the closer she gets to the section that is all things art. It’s no secret that the creative programmes are the least popular at this college, but at times like this, she really isn’t complaining.

 

Especially not when she turns into the fine art aisle and finds that there is nothing down here but her and the books.

 

Well, not completely nothing, because it seems someone else had the same idea as her.

 

Tucked away at the far end of the row is a brown-haired boy, delving deeply into a worn out book, chewing on his thumbnail as his eyes flicker over the page frantically. Oh and he’s built himself a book fort. _A literal fort_. It’s about eight books high and six wide, encasing the boy almost entirely, leaving him only exposed from the chest up. It's almost as if he was so afraid of the real world interfering with his story that he just decided to make himself a shield. She can't lie and say that that's not just a little impressive. 

 

All of her attention lands on the boy and there's nothing else she can do but simply stand there and study him. It may be the weirdest observation she has ever had, but the first thing she notices about him is his jawline. Of course, she is very much aware that it’s a crazy thing to notice about a person you literally just saw for the first time, but there's something about it that she can't stop staring at.

 

It's shaped in an oddly specific way, slightly crooked to the left side but done with absolute precision that everything else lines up perfectly. All the angles connecting together yet getting there in their own unique way. Helplessly, her eyes drag down his skin slowly and across the rounded bump of his chin and back up to curve of his now and all of sudden she’s seeing colours. Blues to be exact. Turquoise, teal, sapphire, navy and just about every other shade that comes in between. They’re swiping up his jaw and swirling on his chin and dotting down his neck, filling every gap and blooming into patterns she’s never even thought of. It’s almost overwhelming - all this imagery hitting her all at once- like she's drowning in all the colours he's overflowing with. The moment her eyes meet his she’s lost in swirls of brown and becomes occupied with counting all the individual flecks she can see reflecting off the light hanging above him.  Almost too lost it seems, because when the eyes she’s so shamelessly ogling grow wide, she registers it just a second too late.

 

The boy no longer looks comfortable and serene as he was just a minute ago, slamming his book closed instantly and jumping, quite vigorously, up from his spot on the floor. The fort loses a couple of books off the top and Rapunzel feels a little guilty for being the cause of the destruction of his hard work. He doesn’t seem to mind too much though as his hand flies to the back of his neck, scratching awkwardly, and he becomes far too occupied with being embarrassed. It’s actually sort of cute. His mouth opens and closes a few times without any words escaping and the action only causes her eyes to lock right back onto his jaw again. The fight she has to have with herself to look literally anywhere else is one she will never repeat out loud.

 

The boy continues to stare at her, quiet and afraid and she can't stop the guilt that begins to settle in her stomach. She was the cause of this whole mess, so it’s now her responsibility to fix it in any way that she can.

 

She lifts her lips into a small smile all the whilst trying the very best that she can to focus her stare anywhere but on the boy himself. She flicks her eyes back onto the floor and points towards the spot by his feet. “Is that a fort?” If her voice comes out a little too high to be casual he doesn’t mention it.

 

He tilts around a little to look at the mess behind him. There are several books lying open on the ground, a few still standing but looking as if they're seconds from following their fallen comrades.  His hand swipes through his hair again getting all riled and messy and there's absolutely nothing Rapunzel can do to stop the faint skip in her heart beat.

 

“Um...yeah.” He stutters, eyes now dropping down to the pile of supplies Rapunzel has clutched in her arm. “Is that a sketchbook?”

 

“Yeah”.

 

"And paints?"

 

"Yep, those too." 

 

Then there's complete silence.

 

Right now, she sort of wishes that she was back in the hustle and bustle of the main room of the library, giving her plenty of people to escape into and judging by the look now haunting the boy in front of her, she would guess he is thinking the same thing. Once again his mouth is opening and closing, but he’s fighting a losing battle as still no words seem to make an appearance.

 

That is until, all of a sudden, he starts moving. Fumbling more like it. He bends down with a sigh and begins to pick up as many books as he can manage, dumping them a little messily into his brown bag. She's about to mention that he has to check those books out before he can take them off property, but with the speed he's going in his embarrassed state she chooses to stay quiet. When he’s sure that the books are safe, he’s snatching up his bag and swinging it over his shoulder as he rushes up to Rapunzel, stopping abruptly by her side. That may have been a big mistake on his part because all her attention is right back where is was before, focusing on how cute he is.

 

“I’m sorry” he mumbles into the quiet stalls, his eyes avoiding hers as his shoulders pull up into a small shrug “about the fort.”

 

Her mouth is opening before she has time to even register what she’s saying. “I thought it was impressive.” Well it is the truth. 

 

The boy brightens up into widest smile she’s ever seen. He nods a few times, one to Rapunzel and twice to himself, before rushing off and stopping once more to pivot in her direction. His hand flies up in the air almost as if it was his body itself reminding him he there was something he forgot to do.

 

“I’m Eugene.” He says it a little out of breath and eagerly as if he really needs to be somewhere else right now.

 

“Rapunzel” she calls back quickly before he’s giving her another shy smile and disappearing completely around the corner.

 

She stares at the now empty space sort of hoping him to return and when he doesn’t she takes a second to wrap her head around what just happened, what it was exactly she had just experienced.

 

It doesn’t hit her for a while after that. Not when she flipping through art books sitting in the remainder of the boy's fort. Not when she returns home and tells Cass all about the interaction in the library. Nothing happens when she’s mindlessly scrolling through social media to see if she can come across any hint of him. It hits her almost a week later when after yet another long session in the art studio she finds her sketchbooks and canvases filled with sharp jaws and brown eyes.

 

Her inspiration isn’t art books and scenery and life as Cassandra had put it.

 

_It’s him_.


	2. I Really Think You Like Me

                                         

 

 

 

 

If Eugene has learnt anything from his time living with Lance as his roommate, it's that the man has no respect for personal space. Usually, he can deal with it when his morning routine gets interrupted by his roommate bursting into the bathroom with important news to tell, or when he’s in the kitchen and has almost set Lance on fire when he’s attempted to squeeze himself between Eugene and the stove. Or even when he has insisted on sleeping on Eugene's floor and kept him awake all night by his loud snoring. The point is that most of the time his complete ignorance for distance doesn’t bother Eugene. 

 

But when his overly enthusiastic friend crowds him against the headrest after he's been awake for all of 5 minutes, that's when he draws the line. He’s not really the one to ask, but he is certain that there is a list of rules when sharing an apartment and he’s sure that not jumping into the others bed first thing in the morning is high on that list. The sun has only just made it's appearance outside the window and that’s far too early for his first words of the day in his opinion.

 

"Do you have a death wish?" He grumbles, batting away the hands Lance has now insisted on using to pull the covers away from him. 

 

"Why, do you have a thing for murder?"

 

He makes sure that the glare he gives off is almost certainly one that could kill. "Not usually, but today feels like the day for trying something  _new_." 

 

Lance, unsurprisingly, isn't phased one bit by that threat and continues his fight to pry the covers away from his sleeping friend. Oh, and on top of it all, he's smiling. A broad, feral grin that Eugene is far too familiar with and knows that whatever has gotten Lance so riled up must be something life-changing. The mischievous glint in his eyes almost makes Eugene too scared to ask. He doesn’t get the chance to question his motives though before his roommate is opening his mouth again and further breaking up the silence of the once calm morning.

 

"You met a girl.” 

 

It may be due to how foggy his brain still is from the lack of consciousness, but he wasn’t expecting that at all. The statement is simple, straight forward and said with the utmost excitement.

 

"You actually met a girl" he repeats, more to himself than to the actual person in question, and that feral smile grows into something more of disbelief. 

 

"Lance-”

 

He tries to warn him, he really does, but his attempt is immediately squashed when he feels the space beside him become empty once more and watches as Lance bounds into the middle of the room and starts to contort his body in all sorts of shapes. There are cheers and whoops and what he thinks is a victory dance. It's 8 am and his roommate is in the centre of his room shaking his hips and waving his arms in a completely ungraceful manner. He comes too close several times to things Eugene has left sprawled on the floor. However, it appears that his friend doesn’t share any concerns for his own safety as he introduces kicks into his routine. _High_  kicks.

 

"My little Eugene is all grown up!" He carries on spinning in circles and fading into his own little world of Lance. It’s when he gets out a high-pitched squeal about _little Eugene babies_ that he decides that is just about enough for today. 

 

"Lance" he demands again climbing out from under the covers to meet his friend, pulling him to a halt with two firm hands on his shoulders. "Lance buddy, I am saying this for your own safety. Please, _please_ , stop doing-" he gives a pointed look up and down his body "- _that_."

 

A disapproving sigh slips out of Lance's mouth as he begins to shake his head furiously. "No can do Eugenie". 

 

Eugene grumbles at the nickname, eyes trailing his friend as he wiggles out of their current position and flops back onto the bed. He kicks one of his legs onto the other and plants both hands behind his head. "This is the first time you've ever talked about a girl and as your best friend I'm obligated to annoy you about it." Technically he didn't talk about it. He let it slip accidentally last night during a thrilling episode of yet another home renovation programme when the couple chose to paint their house green which he knows for fact Rapunzel would disagree with. He doesn't know much about the type of artist she is but he's judging from the paint smears he saw on her hand she knows her colours. He very quickly realised his mistaken and headed off to bed before Lance has the chance the say anything. clearly he's making up for it now.  

 

However, even if he is being annoying about this, he is also verycorrect about the first time part. Throughout his time in college, Eugene's love life has been more along the lines of a blank space type of situation. It's not like he's had that many opportunities to delve into the dating world, what with hiding in the library and all. It’s not so much him not wanting to date, it's more along the lines of him preferring to be at home with a good book. Stories are comforting and easy- dating is not. 

 

Yet for some reason, Rapunzel is just different. With only 5 minutes of awkward conversation, and even more awkward staring, she is already infiltrating every one of his thoughts. When he got home from the library that night, he spent the next few hours on every social site he could think of  trying to track her down. It was almost 2 am by the time he had come across her on Instagram after a long stalking session, to which he would never admit to if anyone were to ask. Now, he checks that same page every day just trying to summon up the courage to actually hit the follow button.  

 

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he turns his attention back to his roommate who has now burst out into a song about love at first sight. If he didn’t have such a  _good_  singing voice Eugene would have probably throttled him by now. But alas, his roommate can sing and who can blame him if he enjoys listening to him. 

 

Instead, he decides to settle on a pillow and cocks an eyebrow as he grabs the one at the end of the bed and pushes it straight into Lance's face. "Don't you have somewhere to be, like a class?" 

 

Lance’s words come out muffled and only slightly annoyed. "The theatre can wait, my friend. First I need details". 

 

And _that_ freezes Eugene to the spot. How can he give details when there really aren't any details to give? Are there? Can he even qualify it as meeting a girl when all he said was his name? The most action that was had was by his book fort which of course had met its untimely death in Eugene's haste to escape. And he really doesn’t think his friend will be too impressed by his tactic to see a pretty girl and run. 

 

The pillow drops from his hands as he removes his grip and he uses the brief silence to shuffle over to his desk, perching himself on the edge. He finds a particularly interesting ink stain and focuses on that. "There's nothing to tell". 

 

"Come on, there must be something.”

 

“There really isn’t”.

 

“Did you get her number? Do you know what building she lives in? What course she's on?  _Anything_?" 

 

He shakes his head to every one of his inquiries adding little shrugs to amplify the sympathy factor. This is his first attempt at this, how was he to know he was supposed to get her number?

 

Lance apparently has no sympathy to give today, as his focus is no longer on his struggling friend but rather on his phone that sits close by on the bedside table. It’s switched on, unarmed and the perfect opportunity for Lance to strike, which of course  _he does_ , and before Eugene can even mutter his objection the phone has been swiped up and taken prisoner by friends’ hand. He can see the exact moment in which Lance gets his phone unlocked and his eyes settle on the evidence of what Eugene got up to last night. After a whole day of classes and pining over Rapunzel, he was too exhausted to even move let alone remember to close out her profile page. And now it’s there, shining brightly, ready for the taking.

 

Sliding his eyes back up, the wide grin appears again on Lance’s lips and this time Eugene certainly is too afraid to ask him what he’s got planned.

 

There’s a brief pause before he is leaping off the bed, literally, and making his way over to Eugene, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him up and away from the desk. He’s promptly walked out of his room, through the dimly lit hallway and brought to a stop right outside their front door. It takes him a few seconds to register that his arms are being hoisted into a jacket he hadn’t even realised Lance had picked up.

 

“Your girl just posted” he says, finally managing to get Eugene to cooperate and slide his hands all the way through the dark brown sleeves “looks like she’s an early riser”.

 

“What?” his voice is laced with every bit of confusion and he gets a light smack on the head for it.

 

“She’s at the cafe, buddy.” Two hands find their way onto Eugene’s shoulders before he’s being pushed out of the front door that, once again, he’s didn't even realise Lance opened. “You’ve got some wooing to do my friend.”

 

He tries the best he can to plant his feet firmly on the ground and grab a side of the door frame to halt any movement. Using his free hand and glaring behind himself at Lance, he gestures wildly at his current state of undress from the waist down. “I’m still in my underwear.”

 

There’s a brief pause, a moment of pure peaceful silence before they are moving again, this time Eugene being pulled in the direction they just came from. Lance’s voice is now surely waking up everyone else on their floor when he announces a new addition to his plan. 

 

“First, we change, then we woo!”

 

 

                                                                          

                                                    

 

It doesn't take him too long to find her, when arrives at the cafe half an hour later he already knows exactly where to look. 

 

Corona coffee is the quietest coffee shop in town with it only being a ten-minute walk away from campus. It's hidden away down an alleyway and never gets busier than a few full tables making it the perfect place for one to come and escape the real world for a while. In his case, it’s the ideal place to curl up with a good novel. In Rapunzel’s case, it’s the perfect place for sketching. Especially with the large glass windows located in the downstairs area leading out onto the cafe’s courtyard. Which is exactly where he finds her. 

 

She's sat at the table tucked away in the corner, hand moving furiously, head buried in her paper and completely ignoring everything else around her. It makes him pause in his tracks, halfway on the stairs, mouth slightly open. He’s not exactly sure what it is, but there’s just something that makes her so intriguing to him and it’s something that goes way past her golden hair and bright smile. He watches every stroke her pencil takes and is drawn in every time she freezes, sticks out her tongue and erases the line she just made. Only when she’s happy with the line correction does her tongue retreat and her lips pull into a smile once again.

 

There’s just so much concentration and respect for what she is doing that he can’t help the way something blooms in his chest. She’s like magic and all he wants is more. To know her more, talk to her more, see her more. Just  _be_ more. He’s known that ever since he looked up and saw her standing at the end of the aisle in the library. It became more apparent when scrolling through her pictures and seeing just what type of person she is. And it hits him again now as he watches her flip her book this way and that to find just the right angle.

 

After a few minutes of simply staring, when it reaches a point that is bound to raise concern from the other customers around him, he draws in a long breath and glances down at his phone one last time, reading the message that Lance sent for what he thinks is the 100th time since he left their building. 

 

_You got this buddy._ _Just don't be a dork._

 

Don't be a dork, right. He's got this, hasn't he?

 

There's one more intake of breath, sharper this time, before his legs are moving and taking him over to put his plan in motion - whatever that plan might be. Thanks to Lance, he didn’t really have the time to think about what he was going to say or do and now that he is finally seeing her again there is no hope in that happening now. His brain has other priorities. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and crosses his fingers tightly hoping that this would be enough to get him the rest of the way over to her table. It does, thankfully, and he’s almost to the vacant chair when his luck gives out and sends his foot directly into the path of a backpack strap lying across the floor.

 

What had intended to be a smooth glide has now turned into in him tumbling haphazardly into the seat before him, his hands grabbing onto the back of the wooden chair to stop him from falling any further. However, it doesn’t stop his legs from flying around under the table and sending the half-full coffee cup plunging to the ground. If he wasn’t already fully embarrassed, the loud crashing noise of mug meeting floor is quick to get him to the max level.

 

_So much for not being a dork._

 

His fall gets Rapunzel's attention almost immediately, her eyes snapping up to meet his before falling to the table in front of her and sending a look of alarm across the table. She stands up quicker than he can really register what’s happening and is instantly in action, scooping up all her sketchbooks and supplies and snatching up her phone before its drowned in a sea of coffee.

 

It’s seconds before Eugene is following suit, a chorus of apologies spilling out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that honestly.”

 

“It’s fine” she replies, a little breathless but with no annoyance, using a couple of napkins she had nearby to absorb all the liquid she can.

 

Despite her apparent calmness, he’s still a fussing mess, trying his hardest to get the rest of her sketchbooks to safety, especially the one he saw her drawing in when he first arrived. It's already half full and with the way she was focusing on it earlier, it must be one of importance. The book is barely an inch off the table when he hears a cry comes from opposite him.

 

“No! Don’t touch that”.

 

His head raises slightly to see Rapunzel with her arm stretched trying to grab the sketchbook off of him, her cheeks now blooming red from anger. No, not anger, but what he thinks is embarrassment. Eugene is really not the type of person to snoop and with Rapunzel only inches away he knows he really shouldn’t, but he can’t help his eyes from flickering down to the pages in front of him. He’s surprised when there is no more objection coming from Rapunzel as he flips through the rest of the pages. He’s even more surprised when he sees that the pages are full of him.

 

His eyes find their way back to Rapunzel and catch the small shrug she gives in her defence.

 

“I told you not to touch it.”

 

And for once he’s really glad he didn’t listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song: First Day Of My Life by Bright Eyes.


	3. My Missing Puzzle Piece

 

                                                             

 

 

It takes Rapunzel approximately thirty seconds to jump into action. The first ten are spent being angry at herself for being stupid enough to sketch someone in a very public place. The next fifteen are spent being angry at _Eugene_ , full of hard glaring and mental scolding and even another attempt at grabbing the book back off him. Of course, she fails miserably because his grip is too tight and that just makes her all the more frustrated. He has no right to look at her private sketches and then just think that he can hold on to them thank you very much. Then the last five seconds are where she actually puts something into action. It’s a stupid plan really with not much thought going into it at all, but at this point, she doesn’t have time to think of anything else. Right at this time of crisis, it’s all or nothing and if she’s going to escape with as little damage as possible she needs to act quickly. 

 

So before Eugene can really register what’s happening, eyes still deep in focus on her sketches, her hands are moving - everywhere. They are quick and frantic and drop several items all over the place as she attempts to swipe up all of her supplies and tuck them under her arms as safe as can be. There isn’t really any time to pick favourites or order anything sensibly and so the smallest sketchbook being on the bottom of the pile will just have to do. And if it also means leaving behind her pale blue book for the sake of time then so be it. Even though it's her favourite, it’s a sacrifice she’s absolutely willing to make. She can deal with that fall out later.

 

So far, the plan seems to be going just as well as she had hoped, most of her items have been rescued in the quickest time possible and she’s managed to do it all with the least amount of attention drawn to her. That is until she bends down to scoop her backpack strap onto her arm and instead of feeling the scratchy fabric, she feels the grip of something warm around her wrist. The touch is light on her arm, but it is just enough to halt all her movements and bring her crashing down into the present. 

 

The present in which Eugene has his hand curled around her wrist and is smiling down at her with the softest expression she has ever seen. His lips are spread wide and his eyes have gone all crinkly in the corners and if she wasn’t trying so hard to run away she could stay right in this spot for hours and just stare at him. And she almost does just that as it takes before Eugene is breaking the silence. Well, destroys it more like, because when he opens his mouth his voice is nothing but warmth and compassion. 

 

"Stay."

 

It's only a word, just  _one_  word, but oh how that is more than enough for her to comply with his wish. She was expecting him to be a lot more freaked out, considering their history and all, but here he is calm and strong and taking the first step, putting the situation in her hands. It is such a dramatic change from what she knows about Eugene that she wants to push it further if only for sheer curiosity, to open herself up to possibilities. 

 

There’s a noise that echoes from somewhere around them and it alarms her a little, lets her know that they still are very much in public with a table soaked through with coffee and instead of staring at each other in silence they should probably get around to fixing that at some point. So she gives him a nod, breathes out an okay and makes no attempt to escape again.  She rises back up until she is standing straight once again, not meeting Eugene’s height by any means, and drops her bag back on to the floor making sure to deposit all of her supplies safely on the empty seat next to her. She stares at the mess on the table in front of her and uses her free hand to gesture, quite wildly, at the chaos they’ve managed to create in the last few minutes. 

 

“We should probably clean this up.”  

 

Eugene nods in agreement and makes a start by going on the lookout for napkins and returning with a more than sufficient pile. He separates them roughly and hands her half, getting straight to work on mopping up as much liquid as he can. It's actually not as much as she thought, most of it is creating dark brown espresso pools underneath the table, but it looks like it's drying so they don't bother with it for now. Instead, they continue working together, occasionally leaning over the other to move some of the decorative objects that live on the table out of the way, but they mostly stay on their own side. However, that doesn't stop her from noticing the looks that Eugene gives her now and then and it certainly doesn't stop her from giving him some looks of her own.

 

This is the first time she's really had a good look at him, in real life anyway, and all the emotions she felt that first time are starting to flood back. The inspiration, the colours, the desire to just paint. She feels every urge to throw down the soggy clump of napkins, steal the sketchbook back and continue where she left off. But alas she remains where she is with no chance of getting the book back it still remaining prisoner on the other side of the table. It's her book and she has every right to just take it, but for some reason, she feels the need to ask. So she does.  

 

She points to the sketchbook and gives Eugene a raise of her eyebrows. "Can I have that back now?" 

 

He pauses his cleaning only to peer up at her and place his coffee stained napkin on the table. Instead of handing it back over like she expected, he points down to the page he opened it on it. The first sketch she ever did of him - a couple of hours after they first ran into each other. It’s simple and rough but the boy in the fort is clear as day. 

 

His eyes follow his finger lazily tracing the pencil lines before he flicks them back up to Rapunzel, a question lying in them. “Did you draw this in the library?” 

 

It’s an obvious question really and out of the few he could have chosen she has to admit she’s slightly relieved he went with this one first. She doesn’t quite think she’s up for the whole _why are you drawing me_ thing just yet. She looks back down at the sketch, taking it all in and trying to imagine just what it is that he’s seeing. It must be weird to see yourself on paper like that, but she thinks he really suits it. 

 

Her voice is soft and almost a whisper when she finally answers him. “No. I did it once I got home, a few hours after you left actually.” 

 

She can’t see his reaction, still too busy analysing her own sketches, but she can hear him hum as if he’s satisfied with that answer or as if he was maybe expecting her to say something else entirely. There isn’t much time to really contemplate the reason before the page in front of her is being turned and a new sketch is being presented before her. 

 

“And this one” he continues, running his finger over the drawing so delicately like he fears he may smudge it. “Is this one recent?” 

 

_Not at all,_  she wants to say, _I did that one on the same day._ The sketch is in colour this time and it shows Eugene from behind staring out of a window in the distance. She had found it on his Instagram that night after spending what felt like years searching for him online. “I think so.” She’s lying of course, but a late-night stalking spree isn’t really something she wants to admit to on the same day her secret sketches have been exposed. 

 

She watches as his fingers come to a stop on the page almost in the same moment she feels a tug on her wrist, his hand finding home there again. It's a soft pull that gets her attention and causes her to finally,  _finally_ , look up at him.

 

"It's nice." He whispers, almost as if he's scared she would reject the compliment. "They are all nice." It may just be the soft way he says it but she can't help the pride she feels at that. They  _are_  nice sketches and she _is_ proud of them, she just wishes he never saw them. 

 

She smiles at him anyway. "Thank you."

 

"You're welcome."

 

He shrugs a little and his smile is still there, but its brightness has dimmed slightly and it’s almost the same look he was wearing before when he was attempting to make his grand entrance. In a matter of seconds, he’s gone back to dorky Eugene who destroys book forts and spills coffee and yet, she can tell that there is something lying beneath the surface. He swallows a few times and brushes back his hair a few times more, almost as if he’s trying to grasp on to the small boost of confidence he still has left. It takes him a couple more seconds, a couple more breaths, and then he is speaking again. 

 

“I - I don’t really know how to do this.” 

 

His words take her by surprise a little. She was expecting more questions about the drawings, but she tries to hide her confusion the best she can for his sake. 

 

“Do what?” 

 

He sighs, almost in defeat, before gesturing between the two of them. “This, talking to you.” His eyes drop back down to the table, looking over where the mess once was, which ultimately makes his eyebrows furrow and his head shake. “This is the second time I’ve tried and it’s a bigger disaster than last time.” 

 

That makes her laugh, it’s only small and nothing too loud but she knows he hears it when he looks back up to her with a slightly surprised look in his eyes.  

 

“In your defence, it was kind of my fault you destroyed your book fort.” She cocks her head to the side and offers him a small shrug. “Although it is a bit weird to be hiding out in the library.” 

 

It takes him a few seconds to register what she says, the teasing way she says it, and then he’s smiling wider and letting out a small chuckle of his own. His nose scrunches up as he sends her a teasing smirk. “Even weirder than  _drawing_  the people who hide out in the library?”

 

She hums in thought and squints her eyes a little too hard just for effect. “Okay” she breathes out, throwing her arms in the air. “I’m still the weird one here.” 

 

Eugene nods in agreement, head bouncing enthusiastically and she’s fairly certain he looks as happy as she feels right now. Quite the contrast from how she was feeling seconds ago when she was attempting to run out of this place, run out on him. The ten seconds she spent on yelling at herself before suddenly don't feel like they were long enough. She almost missed out on this,  _all of this_. The shy looks he’s giving her, the way he is still holding her wrist and the basic fact that they are finally having a conversation. If only Cassandra could see her now. 

 

Her laughs calm down a little Eugene when Eugene clears his throat again, eyes glancing back down to the sketches for a brief moment. This time when he looks back at her she feels a warmth blooming through her chest. “I have a question.” He says it boldly and she kind of likes how he’s announcing his question instead of just asking it. 

 

She raises her hand in encouragement, but stays silent and waits for him to continue at his own pace. 

 

“Why are you drawing me?” 

 

And there it is. It doesn’t take her by surprise, not really, she was expecting this question at some point, but that doesn’t mean she is any more prepared to answer it. They may finally be on their way to function normally around each other, but it still doesn’t change the fact that she doesn’t have an answer for him. The thing is that she never chose to draw him in the first place, it just happened. When she sat down that night she had fully intended to do something along the lines of self-portraiture, but when she started seeing the sharp angles of a male jaw instead of hers she was in far too deep to stop. It just felt so good and freeing to be able to draw with this intensity again that she didn’t have it in her to pull herself out of that trance. She missed that feeling and if it was him that gave her that then there’s nothing she could really do. 

 

Over the last week, she has asked herself many times that why, out of everything, it was Eugene that sparked this inspiration. What was it about him that captured so much that she now has a sketchbook half-filled with his features? No answer ever came of course. So when she tries to answer Eugene she gives him the only answer she can, honesty. 

 

“I don’t know” her shoulders rise and fall as she lets out a huffed breath. “I just started and then for some reason I couldn’t stop.”

 

Hearing it out loud makes her wince inside, it sounds ridiculous and just outright insane. But it’s the truth and at least that’s better than nothing. 

 

“Does this happen often?” 

 

She shakes her head “Never actually. At least not with a person.” 

 

She’s expecting him to ask another question, go fishing for more information, but he doesn’t. He remains silent, watching her, and gives her all the time she needs to continue. 

 

“I’ve been having a bit of an art block lately.” She points back over to the drawings, only now realising that at some point Eugene had turned the page to one of her favourites. It's another one of her finds on his Instagram, Eugene cuddling up to a bright orange cat. “That is the first thing I’ve drawn in months.” She pauses for a moment, giving him the chance to jump in and shut her up but when all he does is smile at her she takes that as a signal that he’s happy with just listening. It feels kind of nice to have someone to let this all out on. “For my senior project, I have to paint an expression piece. Something that captures a feeling.” Her eyes roll slightly, even weeks after hearing about the assignment she still doesn’t exactly know what it means. “I haven’t been able to think of anything and I guess drawing you was a nice break from it all. It was stressing me out a little.”

 

_Or a lot_  she wants to add, but she doesn’t want to dump all of her stress on Eugene, especially when he’s being so nice about all of this. And it’s then that she notices she hasn’t actually asked him how he feels about the sketches and she hasn’t really apologised.  _For any of it_. It’s far overdue at this point. She opens her mouth, apology already on her lips when she feels a small swipe across her wrist. It’s gentle, there and gone before she really has time to register it, but she felt it all the same.

 

If his smile before had caused her chest to bloom this does much more. The warmth doesn’t just bloom, it _blossoms_ , spreads all over her from her wrist to the bottom of her toes. It’s a rush of serenity that crashes over her in waves. Everything about it makes her feel calm and safe and peaceful. Almost the exact opposite of how drawing Eugene feels. It’s strange, how the same person can make you feel things that are such polar opposites. 

 

She drags her eyes up to meet his, getting lost in the swirls of brown just like she did on that first day. But now there’s something else shinning in them, glinting almost, as if he just had the most wonderful idea. And then she’s seeing it spread across his whole face, lighting up his smile, deepening his eyebrows, coursing through his entire being. 

 

Then he opens his mouth. “Paint me.” 

 

He says it so simply and casually that it’s hard not to act like he hasn’t just knocked the wind right from her. Her eyes search his face thoroughly expecting to see the beginnings of a laugh or one of those cute smirks or anything to indicate that he’s joking. But he’s staring right back at her, nothing but total sincerity on his face. 

 

“I want to be your project.” 


	4. On Our Way

 

                                                                

 

 

 

 

Even though she tries to contain it, uses every last shred of strength she has, she can't stop the way her lips curl up at the notifications popping up on her phone. They come in waves. Three rings then silence, two rings then silence and then three more rings followed by another stream of silence. She hasn't quite figured out yet why exactly he has decided to do it this way or why he has chosen to wait this long at all, especially when she already has the sneaking suspicion that this isn't the first time he has been checking up on her profile. He never did give her an explanation of how exactly he ended up at the same cafe as her at the exact same time, but she's pretty sure she can figure than one out on her own. 

 

Unlike the other times when she has had this happen to her, she doesn't find it creepy or too eager. With Eugene, it somehow feels exciting as if this is the real start to whatever's happening between them. Here in this moment, they've officially upgraded from disaster run in's to the potential of being friends. And apparently study buddies. 

 

When she said yes to Eugene's proposal she really didn't have time to think it through, the words kind of slipped out before her brain had a chance to catch up with what was going on. There was a lot happening all at once and she can't really be blamed for her momentary lapse in judgement. So she said yes, just like that, and was left to face all the consequences of that agreement when she got home that night after her class. She was only two steps into the apartment before she was spilling everything to Cassandra and it's safe to say that she wasn't entirely on board with her decision. It wasn't that she wasn't happy that Rapunzel had finally found some inspiration, but it was more concern over the fact that her inspiration was a _boy_. A boy she had yet had the chance to interrogate and haze in her own protective best friend way. 

 

It was only when she had promised to let her haze him another day that Cass finally decided to listen to a helpless Rapunzel gush about how beautiful Eugene was. There were mumbles of his smile and his eyes and his jaw and _how on earth am I supposed to paint him Cass, when I can't stop staring._

 

That panic went on for at least another hour before she got herself into a more manageable state, which was partly due to a warm cup of tea and Cassandra's reassuring comments as she scrolled down Eugene's profile on her phone. Rapunzel really wasn't expecting anything life-changing from her love hating friend but she was grateful nevertheless when she gave her approval.  _Nice choice_ was all she had muttered before plopping down onto the couch next to Rapunzel and wrapping her up in a white woolly blanket. She tends to get cold when she's nervous. 

 

So now here she was, three days later, fully accepting the idea that she is going to paint Eugene Fitzherbert. And she would only be lying if she said she wasn't squealing with excitement on the inside. 

 

The echoing of bells continues around her as she looks down at her screen, smile wider than ever, watching as one by one the notifications light up on her phone. It did surprise her a little just how far back he had gone and how fast he had managed to get there. But then again, he has probably already seen most of these photos before, he's just been waiting for the right time to let Rapunzel know that he has seen them. He had started with a photo of her and Cassandra that was taken all the way back in freshman year and it has taken him approximately 5 minutes for him to reach her photo from only a couple of hours ago. And in that time the smile on her face hasn't disappeared once. Which apparently is upsetting her roommate. 

 

"You're doing it again." 

 

She hears the mumble come from across the room and she locks her phone for a moment to peer over to the kitchen counter. There, she finds Cassandra sitting on one of their wooden bar stools with her legs kicked up on another, boots still firmly on her feet. There's a book open on her lap, a pencil in her hand that she's been half chewing for the last few minutes and a scowl on her face that says she's mad she has gotten interrupted. Although, Rapunzel isn't exactly sure what she is interrupting because the book is certainly not one of educational value. 

 

"Doing what?" she asks back, raising one of her eyebrows in mock confusion. 

 

Cassandra rolls her eyes at that, stretching her hand out in front of her and waving it in Rapunzel's direction. Well, the direction of her face to be more precise. " _Smiling._  It's distracting." 

 

As if right on cue her phone comes alive again with a light ring causing her smile to widen that little bit more. The groan that comes from Cassandra is priceless. She throws her head back, scrunches her eyes closed and lets it fill the main room of the apartment. It creates a hilarious image and if she wasn't already occupied she would probably be rushing to her room right now to sketch it and save it for blackmail. 

 

It takes her roommate a few moments to let out all of her frustration, and probably annoy a few neighbours too, before she is recomposing herself and opening one eye to stare back at Rapunzel cautiously. "Please tell me that was the last one."

 

She's not exactly sure what fate is on her side today but she is extremely grateful for it because the phone decides to chime again and she gets to watch her friend hit her breaking point. Cassandra starts moving until she is sitting up straight, removing her feet from the stool to place them on the wooden floor and throwing her book carelessly onto the counter behind her. Both of her eyes are open now and have set themselves straight on to the phone. There's a small pause, in which the phone rings again, then she's finally opening her mouth. 

 

"I'm going to kill him."

 

And then she's on the move, springing off of the stool and launching herself onto the couch, successfully crushing Rapunzel in the process. There's something that sounds like a war cry thrown in there but Rapunzel is too busy laughing to really pay attention. It only takes her a few seconds before she has both legs on either side of Rapunzel and her hands are gripping at any limb she can reach, which is not easy since they're flying all over the place. 

 

"Give me the phone!" Cassandra yells through her panted breath.

 

This girl is strong but after 3 years of dealing with things like this Rapunzel has learnt enough to hold her own. She manages to get out a small _no_ through all of her giggles, throwing her arm behind her and extending it over the side of the couch with her phone secure in her hand. Her new strength that she has gathered over the years may be enough to keep up with Cass physically, but she is always underestimating just how clever Cass can really be, especially when it comes to getting something she wants. Before Rapunzel can make her next move the chaos comes to a sudden halt and she watches as Cassandra sits back on her heels and beings staring. She seems to take a few moments to just stare and as the seconds pass it starts to turn into something a little more menacing, a little scarier.

 

Then she is grinning. Her lips twist up into a sly smirk and her eyes are shining with nothing but evil ideas. It only takes Rapunzel seconds to catch on to what her friend is about to do, suddenly sobering up and giving back a glare of her own. 

 

"Don't you dare" she threatens, the words sharp and demanding. 

 

Cassandra is still above her, waiting, watching, listening as the phone rings one more time. Then she's charging into action, both hands finding home against Rapunzel's sides and attacking relentlessly. 

 

" _Cass_ " she manages to wine, her voice coming out strained. It's a mix between laughter and sighs of frustration and she can't tell what's worse - the pain of being tickled or losing to Cassandra. She doesn't really get a chance to decide when she feels Cass literally climbing on top of her to reach out and grab the phone, only sitting back when it's in her grip. All Rapunzel can do is lay there and watch helplessly as her friend unlocks the screen and starts smiling at whatever she finds. Rapunzel let's out a grumble as she swears to herself to never give Cass her password again. 

 

"Library boy wants to meet up." Cass says flipping the phone around so she can see the message and confirm her devil friend is actually telling the truth. There's no denying that she is when the message is there, lit up in blue and clear for anyone to see. 

 

_**eugenefitz:** _

_Are you ready to paint?_  

 

With the situation she is currently in, her bottom half going numb with the weight of her roommate straddling her, she really shouldn't be in a position to smile. She also knows that smiling with said roommate watching her every move would only put her in more danger when she doesn't currently have control over her phone. But just like earlier, she really can't help it and before she can even finish having this dilemma with herself a smile is already on her lips. The funny thing is that she knew this would happen one day, knew that they would have to actually arrange to meet up at some point, but witnessing Eugene being the one to take that step is doing all sorts of things to her heart. 

 

She's not exactly sure how long she is staring at the phone for when she hears a scoff come from above her. Her eyes flick up just in time to see Cassandra give her best eye roll, relinquishing all control of the phone back to Rapunzel and sitting on her heels in defeat. She stays like that for a few moments, investigates Rapunzel with a questioning look for a few moments _more_ and then she is crawling off the couch and making her way back over to her spot. This time when she hops onto the stool she removes her own phone from her pocket and plugs in her headphones. After that she pretty much becomes a lost cause, slipping away into her music that Rapunzel can hear all the way from across the room.  She doesn't mind too much though, it just means that now she can smile in peace. 

 

Her eyes focus again on her phone and, now that she actually has the chance to reply, she realises that she doesn't even know what to say. This has never happened with guys before and it startles her slightly that Eugene has already ruined her to the point where she can't type out a simple message. She knows that it doesn't matter what she says, knows that he really doesn't care if she makes a typo or auto-correct takes control, as long as he gets some sort of confirmation that she wants to actually go through with their deal he's okay. 

 

And she does want to go through with it, she really does. There isn't anything she wants more right now than to spend hours locked up in the art studio with this boy drawing him until her hands physically can't draw anymore. She takes a small breath, prepares her thumbs over the keyboard and starts to type. 

 

_**rap.unzel:** _

_Do you have your model poses ready?_

 

**_eugenefitz:_ **

_I always have them ready_

 

**_rap.unzel:_ **

_It sounds like you have done this before_

 

**_eugenefitz:_ **

_Oh, all the time!_

_Wait until you see my smolder_

 

**_rap.unzel:_ **

_That sounds promising_

 

**_eugenefitz:_ **

_I never break my promises Rapunzel_

_I only have one class on Monday, we could meet up then?_

 

**_rap.unzel:_ **

_Sounds great_

_Just send me your room number and I'll be there_

 

**_eugenefitz:_ **

_It's a date!_

                                                                                                  

* * *

 

Over the next few days, Rapunzel does everything she can to not think about her paint date, which is now what she's calling it thanks to Cass and her daily teasing, She keeps herself busy with classes and homework and re runs of some documentary on the blue planet. She thinks about paint brushes and whales and not about cute boys and their willingness to help her out completely by their free will. But eventually Monday does come and all of sudden that's all she can think about.

 

The hallway is quiet as she turns the corner and continues walking along yet another blank white wall. She hasn't been paying attention but she is quite sure that this is the the exact same one she passed a few minutes ago and the one she crossed a few minutes before that. With all of her obsessing over not thinking about today she completely forgot to look up the room number that Eugene had given her. As an art student, this side of campus is not one that she explores often or ever really. In fact, the only time she has ever walked this far east was all the way back in freshman year when - according to her professor- it was mandatory for her to take up another elective that wasn't related to the course she was on. After hours of flipping through pamphlets, she had opted for psychology which she was more than happy to drop when her first year came to an end. 

 

Now, as she walks blindly through the halls she partly wishes that she kept up those classes in order to have some sense of direction over on this side of the campus. After making her sixth attempt to find the right classroom, she finds herself in a courtyard. It's a small outdoor section in between buildings and despite it being a relatively warm day, it's mostly empty. There are a few students about, some sitting on the stone benches, one laying on a blanket on the grass, but none of them seem to be paying any attention to her. Not even when she spins in a circle a couple of times just to get the point across that she is in fact lost. The girl on the blanket even turns over in the opposite direction. _Rude_. 

 

The bag of supplies she has slung over her shoulder is beginning to weigh her down and she suddenly has the urge to charge over to one of them and demand that they help her. She has every intention to do just that, her feet leaving the cobbled path and stepping onto the grass when she feels a light grip on her arm holding her in place.

 

It's silly really how much she is startled by the touch, but it comes out of nowhere and she really is just a big ball of anxiety at heart. Instead of turning around as a normal person would, she jumps instead and almost loses her balance completely. Her feet become tangled up in each other, causing her to wobble and she is just moments away from falling flat on the grass when her saviour proves that he is one step ahead of her. She feels the grip on her arm tighten, pulling her in and keeping her upright. 

 

It takes her a few moments to steady herself, placing both feet as flat on the ground as she can before she straightens up and adjusts the strap on her shoulder. She becomes too occupied with covering her fall that she almost misses the voice coming from behind her. _Almost_. 

 

"Trying to beat my fall?" 

 

It surprises her how quickly she recognises that voice, recognises the teasing tone within it. She doesn't have to turn around to know who it is that came to her rescue, but she does anyway and she is certainly not disappointed. Eugene is standing there in front of her with a wide smile on his face looking at her like what just happened was the most interesting thing in the world. 

 

She finally has a moment to look at the situation then, now she's not falling to her death, and she has time to take in what exactly he just said. It almost makes her laugh at how every time they meet something just has to go wrong. It's like it's their thing. She looks down at the ground then, sees one of her paint pots has slipped out of her bag during the trip and then does start laughing. She looks up at him again and offers him a small shrug. "Can't let you have all the disasters now can I?"

 

Eugene purses his lip a little, nodding softly to himself. "I guess now we're even."

 

"I guess we are." 

 

They both break into laughter and she takes this opportunity to let her eyes wander freely. She takes in his slightly ruffled hair and the faint line of facial hair that wasn't there the last time. She notices the blue shirt he's wearing and the brown jacket on top. He looks put together and calm and pretty much the opposite of how she's feeling right now. After a few more seconds of staring, it's almost as if she realises that there was a point to this meeting and this event in the courtyard wasn't part of the plan. "Sorry I'm late." 

 

Eugene's lips turn up a little in the corner and she can't help but get excited when she sees that cute smirk appear again. "Get a little lost?"

 

He poses it as a question, but with the way his voice is teasing her and the way his eyebrows are lifting up she knows that he didn't mean it as a question at all. It was said for the sheer purpose to embarrass her. Rapunzel shakes her head at that, rolling her eyes a little too, before giving him a sweet smile of her own. "Your directions weren't very specific."

 

"Ah, so you're saying this is my fault?"

 

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

 

He let's out a laugh, his shoulder rising a little, and it's then she notices he has something in his hand. She really should have noticed sooner, he's been holding it in the entire time, but it's safe to say she got a little distracted staring at other things. He must notice that her eyes have wandered off to somewhere else because he's extending his arm out and offering his hand to her. In it, he's holding a red take out coffee cup stamped with the Corona Coffee logo. Out of all the things to make her heart melt, she never expected a coffee cup to be one of them.

 

"For you" he says nudging the cup in her direction. "I thought I owed you one." 

 

She smiles at that, taking the cup off of him and bringing it up to her nose to confirm that _yes_ , he did get her order right. Well, it's not like it's impossible to do so, it is written on her profile a few times, but it still means something to her that he even bothered to look. 

 

"Thank you" she replies and she really does mean it. Not just for the coffee but for all of it, for agreeing to do something as crazy as to let her paint him. For trusting her with something so personal. For not telling her get lost at the first opportunity he had. He simply shrugs at her thanks, clearly not one to brag about his own kindness and instead tilts his head towards the direction of the building behind him. 

 

"You coming?" he asks, already starting to walk backwards, eyebrow raised in question. 

 

She replies instantly. "Of course." 

 

Securing the bag on her shoulder, she follows him back into the maze of hallways and white walls. Follows him through the path of buildings and across the campus gardens. Follows him as he talks about his day and asks her about hers. And when they make it to the art building, coffee drank and conversation flowing, she's pretty sure she would follow him anywhere.   


	5. They Way You And I Fit

                                                                                                

 

 

 

 

The art studio is quiet around them as Rapunzel draws a circle for what has to be the tenth time in the last half an hour. She was supposed to be setting up the foundation for her sketch, just the usual circle for the head and a few lines for the features. They’re simple lines and will most definitely be erased later, but for some reason she just can’t seem to get them right. She can’t really decide whether it comes with the weird angle of sitting crossed legged on the wooden floor or the looming presence of Eugene sitting opposite her.

 

He’s sat only a few inches away, his legs tangled in front of him and his elbows resting on his knees, his left hand acting as a base for him to rest his chin upon. In the last few minutes he hasn’t really moved much, or at all really, letting Rapunzel do whatever it was that she needed to be accurate as possible. Though that is what she asked of him earlier and it is extremely helpful when drawing, she kind of wishes he would do something other than just _stare_.

 

Since she picked up her pencil, his eyes haven’t moved away from her - she can’t even recall seeing him blink. It’s extremely distracting and she doesn’t remember his gaze being this intense when she first stumbled upon him in the library. True, they are closer to each other now than they were then, the closest they’ve ever been she thinks, but she can’t say that the new close proximity is really helping. It feels odd to be the centre of someone’s attention like that, to know that they’re watching you, waiting for you to do something. The feeling sits heavy in her stomach and she wants to all but scream at him to _at least_  look down.

 

This wasn’t something she was really prepared for and she has no idea how she is going to survive this afternoon if she can’t even draw her stupid outline sketches.  

 

“Are you okay?”

 

It’s only when she hears his voice break the silence does she realise that she has now stopped drawing all together, her hand hovering over the page. Rapunzel lifts her head, finding Eugene now sitting upright and staring at her with a raised brow.

 

“You okay?” he repeats and she thinks it’s the first thing he’s said to her since they sat down. “You sort of just came to a stop.”

 

“Um, yeah” she starts, her voice not sounding very convincing in the slightest. She looks down at her paper, at the disaster lying there, and then back up at Eugene, doing her best to look a lot more composed than she is. “Yeah, I-”

 

_I can’t focus with you here. I can’t think about anything else but you. I can’t concentrate with you looking at me._

She breathes out heavily, defeated. “I’ve never done this before.” It’s not quite a lie but not entirely the truth either. With her left hand she gestures towards Eugene, who of course is still staring. “Drawing someone in person is new to me. I just guess it’s a lot harder than I thought.”

 

She drops her hand in favour of playing with her abandoned pencil and waits, putting her confession in Eugene’s hand. Of course he takes it, swiping it up easily and locking it within words of comfort and reassurance.

 

“It may come as a surprise to you, but I’ve never done this before either.” She watches him as he brushes a lose strand of hair off his forehead and back behind his ear. “No one has ever asked to draw me before.”

 

“Well, it’s not really a common thing to ask someone.”

 

Eugene lets out a small laugh at that and it sends a little burst of warmth into her cheeks. She chooses to ignore it and blames it solely on the sweater she’s wearing.

 

He may not have explicitly said it, his confession giving little away, but she thinks that he’s nervous too and it’s nice to know that she’s not entirely alone in this. They’re both trying something new and for some reason the universe wanted them to try it together. She makes a note to thank the universe later.

 

“I know I can do it” she says, more to herself than Eugene, yet she’s got his full attention. “I guess I just need to focus a little harder.”

 

“What if that’s the problem.” He interrupts her, giving a small quirk of his eyebrow. “What if you’re focusing _too_  hard?”

 

She tilts her head slightly in confusion, her pencil leaving faint lines as she drags it idly across the page. “What do you mean?”  

 

“You told me that you didn’t mean to draw me, you just did it.” He pauses for a moment, nods towards her paints and brushes laid out neatly in front of her. “So what if you just painted and stopped thinking.”

 

She’s never really thought about it like that before, she’s never really had to. Up until this year when she was assigned this stupid project, all of her pieces just happened. They idea came and flowed out of her before her brain had the time to catch up to what it was her hands were doing. Just like when she drew Eugene, her hands wanted to capture him before her brain could figure out why. Maybe he was onto something.

 

“Okay” she says, nodding at him a few times. “And how exactly do I stop thinking?”     

 

“A distraction.”

 

“A distraction?”

 

“Yeah, we could play a game” he says it full of excitement and now she knows she can’t blame the flutter in her chest just on the sweater. “Whilst you paint me I’ll draw you and for every feature we complete we get to ask the other person a question.”

 

It’s not quite the idea she was expecting, she a has a feeling that Eugene doesn’t have much experience with drawing, but it has him looking like an excited puppy and she’s just not going to be the one to take that look off his face.

 

She lifts an eyebrow at him. “I get to ask you anything?”

 

“Anything” he confirms.

 

“That can be dangerous.”

 

He gives her a small shrug of the shoulders, his voice coming out easy and sure. “I trust you.”       

 

She nods, not trusting herself to actually say anything, and finally gives her attention back to the supplies laid out before her. It had taken her most of the night before to choose the perfect selection for this afternoon’s painting session, she wanted nothing but the best. She has brought her finest set of paints, the ones that Cass drove over 4 hours to get for her for her birthday. The palette now sits open just by her foot and next to a few of her favourite brushes which she had selected based on Eugene and which were the ones she thought would best capture him the way she wanted.

 

Luckily for her, she has her usual overused stock with her tucked away in her bag and decides to give them over to Eugene for this little experiment. She digs around a little before producing an old sketchbook too- not the one filled with her other sketches- and gives that over to him as well, watching as he carefully balances it on his crossed legs and readies himself to draw.   

 

She twirls her own pencil in her hand a couple of times before finally putting it back on the paper, her hand loosely swiping over the paper in a large circular movement. It’s still not easy, to draw under someone’s gaze, but with Eugene trying to copy her with a small circle of his own, the wave of endearment sweeping over her is distracting enough for her to finally get the lines right.

 

Typically, when it comes to painting portraits, she’ll draw her subject first, have a detailed outline before she even considers going in with paint. But this time feels different. Having someone physically in front of you is not quite the same as looking at an image for reference. Here Eugene is living, he’s not just a snapshot in time, he’s constantly moving and breathing and _living_. And that’s exactly how she wants to paint him.

 

“Ready?” he asks, eyes reflecting in the afternoon sun flowing in from the open studio window and all she wants to do is paint them.

 

She does. She doesn’t answer him, not in words, and instead swipes her brush across her palette and drops the paint onto the paper. Her wrist swirls and turns as a dark brown circle starts to take shape on the blank background giving the page it’s first line of the story. It’s what she loves most about painting, about art in general, loves that she gets to tell a story and tell it in the way that she wants to. In this story she wants tell it through soft eyes and warm smiles.

 

When she’s dipping her brush into her cup of water, preparing it for the next colour, she decides to ask him her first question.

 

“Are you a cat or a dog person?”

 

She decides to start off simple, nothing too intrusive, something to get the conversation flowing between them.

 

Eugene smirks at the question and answers without hesitation. “Cat person. But I think you already knew that.”

 

She shrugs loosely, dragging her brush across the page just above his pupil for his eyelid, being careful to capture that calming stare of his. Anything too sharp and she would have completely thrown the effect she was trying to create.  

 

“When I was a kid, there was a cat that lived across the street.” Her eyes may be focused on her painting, but she can see out of the corner of her eye that he has started with her hair, it’s a slightly odd place to start but he’s giving it his best shot. “She was a black cat and would always stop by to visit. Sometimes I would even sneak out when everyone had gone to bed just to feed her. I think she was quite fond of me.” The sounds of pencil scratching paper flows through the room as he draws line up and down creating strands. “I remember asking for a black cat just like her every year for my birthday. I only stopped because Lance is deathly afraid of them.”

 

Rapunzel shifts on the floor slightly, sitting upright to switch to a more finer brush- something perfect for his eyelashes. Grabbing her fan brush from her pot, she peers over at him trying as naturally as she can to get a closer look at the eyelashes in question. They’re soft and full and flutter as he laughs. She doesn’t know how she’s going to paint them like that but she wants to. She gets to work, dragging the bush up and down, and her curiosity surges at his mention of his room mate.

 

“How did you and Lance meet?”

 

“Actually, he spilt coffee on me.”

 

Her brush falters, her hand going still, and she shoots him a surprised look. “Really?”

 

Eugene hums lazily. “It was during the first week of orientation and he was new on the job at Corona. I was sat reading at one of the tables and the next thing I knew I was no longer reading words but the remains of my latte and shattered mug pieces” He pauses to stare at Rapunzel, lips pursed and eyes scrunched as if was trying to remember something. “Sounds kind of familiar doesn’t it.”

 

She rolls her eyes. “Shut up.”

 

His head shakes softly, a sigh escaping him. “He felt so guilty that he kept apologising to me every time we passed on campus. The guy wouldn’t shut up until I agreed to be his roommate. Three years later and he’s the best friend I could ever ask for.”

 

Eugene begins moving, stretching his back a little so he can lean over his book better, his arm moving more freely over the page. He seems more confident like this, more comfortable and she likes to think this is how he is when he’s at home. When no one else can see him and he can just be himself. She wants to know more about what’s that like, wants to know more about how Eugene is when he’s just being Eugene.

 

“What about you?” he starts, abandoning her hair for now and deciding to move on to drawing the rest of her face. She’s not surprised, she has a lot of hair and even she gets bored of drawing it sometimes when it comes to self portraits. “How did you meet your roommate?”

 

“Cassandra” she provides for him, but quickly corrects herself. “Cass.”

 

“Cass” he smiles. “How did you meet her?”

 

Slowly his nose is coming to life on her page, the swoop and the shadows blending together nicely. “We were assigned to the same dorm room in freshman year. We hated each other at first, we would always argue about who ate the loudest or who was responsible for the mess around the room.” She pauses for a moment, swirls her brush in her water cup and continues to blend the colours down the bridge of his nose. “When the semester started again after summer, things got - complicated. Cass was the only person I could really rely on. One day the arguments just stopped and I guess we were just friends after that.”

 

“She sounds just a dramatic as Lance” he says and the thought of Cass being called dramatic makes her laugh.

 

“We’ll have to introduce them one day.”

 

Eugene goes quite opposite her for a moment, his focus now on drawing her eyes. From where she’s sitting they look a little uneven, the right a little larger than the left, but he continues adding in all the little details.

 

“What’s your favourite colour?”

 

“Easy” she answers, giving him a smile before cleaning off her brush and finding the perfect colour for his lips. “All of them.”

 

“Ah, I should have guessed.” Eugene huffs dramatically and rolls his eyes. “ _Artists_.”

 

She flicks a small drop of water in his direction as revenge. “What about you then?”

 

He smirks. “All off them.”

 

It’s now Rapunzel’s turn to roll her eyes and groan. “ _English nerds_.”

 

Eugene giggles, _full on giggles_ , and gives her the perfect position she needs to paint his smile accurately. It might be her favourite thing about him so far- his smile. She likes the way it expresses so much, how when he feels something his lips are the first thing to give it away. She also likes how it feels when that smile is directed at her and she could probably get used to that smile. For now though, she settles with painting it, using a mix of reds and pinks and a highlight of white to give it the fullness it deserves.

 

“Why did you choose to major in Literature?”

 

Moving back to her hair, Eugene begins drawing the small headband she’s wearing, scribbling small flowers onto the top of her head. “I used to always read with my mom. It used to be our thing. No matter how busy she was or how tired she was, she would always make time to read with me. When I was ten, she brought me my own journal and told me that one day I would write my own story.” He stops again, erases a flower and redraws it a little bigger. “She died a year later and ever since then I’ve made a promise that I would fill that journal.”

 

Rapunzel stops her painting to look up at him. His eyes are down, his eyelids heavier than they were before and she is already regretting asking that question. But he smiles again after a moment, it’s not full but it’s still there, and he continues to add detail to the small flowers he’s drawing.

 

“Studying literature just seemed like the best option at the time. But now I couldn’t imagine studying anything else.”

 

 

She gets that, she really does. No matter how much trouble it’s causing her, she couldn’t imagine doing anything else than what’s she’s doing now. Creating art.

 

“And what about those book forts, do you make them often?”

 

He huffs out a laugh. “Oh all the time. You have to put the practice in.”

 

“It takes practice to build a book fort?”

 

“Of course, it’s a very difficult skill Rapunzel.”

 

She shakes her head a little, putting the final touches to his mouth. “You’ll have to teach me sometime then.”

 

“Let’s save that for our next study session.”

 

As they continue on with their pieces they seem to fall into a rhythm, both creating away, letting the afternoon silence sweep over them. The atmosphere has developed into something much more comfortable and easy that Rapunzel isn’t really sure what she’s painting any more, she is simply is picking up paint and swiping it onto the paper, her brain falling silent as she lets her hands work. Their one question per feature rule has long been abandoned and they become less of the focus and more of welcomed background noise, the things they ask being more uplifting and light.

 

_“Would you rather only eat ice cream for breakfast or never have ice cream again?”_

_“Easy ice cream for breakfast.”_

 

_“Do you believe in aliens?”_

 

_“Aliens only exist in fiction.”_

_“Have you ever ate peanut butter straight out of the jar?”_

_“Who hasn’t done that?”_

 

The sun flowing in from the window begins to fade, the occasional chatter of students in the halls dimming to almost nothing. They’re not sure how long they’ve been here, but they carry on painting and drawing and exchange answers as they go. Eugene mentions something about the time he got locked out of his own apartment and Rapunzel tells the story of how she ended up in the emergency room with a pencil stuck in her ear as a kid. Eugene talks more about Lance and she offers up a few adventures her and Cass had over the summer. They share their stories of childhood and of the awkwardness of growing up and the problems that come with parents. They talk about future plans and dreams and fears. About everything and anything they can think of.

 

Eugene’s adding colour to his drawing, digging around in the pencil case she gave him and she can’t help but ask the question that’s been on her mind for days.

 

“Why did you ask me to paint you?”

 

She sees him falter a little, nothing too obvious, but his pencil halts and his eyes close for a second too long before opening again. He doesn’t look at her but chooses to keep his focus on his book. He’s gone for a bright yellow and begins shading in the roots of her hair.

 

“I don’t know.” He answers, reminding her of her own answer she gave him a week ago. He raises his head a little, eyes still not meeting hers and focusing on a spot just behind her instead. “You just seemed a little lost and I wanted to help you. I knew you were talented, could tell by the drawings, and even though it was strange to see me, well, _everywhere_ -” she can’t help but cringe a little at that ”- I didn’t want to be that person to take that away from you. To stop you from showing off that talent.”

 

Slowly, she lets out the breath she didn’t even know she was holding. Ever since the Cafe she hadn’t really considered what his answer might be, was too scared to, and now she has it she doesn’t really know what to with it, doesn’t know how she feels. Relieved that it’s finally out there? Surprised that he did it all for her without anything in return? Confused as to why he would do that when he only just met her?

 

“Also” Eugene says, interrupting her inner debate and bringing the focus back to him. He’s stopped drawing now and has a smile on his face, eyes pointing down at her page. “I wanted to be able to see that.”      

 

She looks down, the fading sun casting shadows on the paper, and has to take a moment to comprehend what she sees. It’s Eugene, but not exactly how she was planning to paint him. In the middle of the paper are his eyes, light browns and dark browns swirling together with golden highlights. There is his nose beneath them, swooping into an arch and blending together with the tip of his mouth. She’s painted his bottom lip and the slight lift it has in the corners. They are all Eugene. But the rest is not.

 

Across the paper she’s painted bursts of colour, some in dots, some in splatters, some in loops and harsh lines and circles. There’s a streak of blue cutting across his left eye, a sharp line fading into the page at the end. His nose has been dusted with yellow and orange and his mouth covered with strokes of green. It’s blending together in places and remains distinct in others, the colours are hard in one corner but soft in the other, parts of his features get swept away in waves and others stand strong. It’s Eugene and it’s colour and it’s emotion and it’s beautiful.

 

It’s something she can actually be proud of.   

 

“I wanted to see what it looked like when Rapunzel paints her best .”

 

She takes a moment to register what he says and how he says it, voice steady and confident as if he’s not surprised at all. As if he knew somehow she could do this and he was just trying to show her.   

 

“I - I didn’t mean to do this. This wasn’t what I was trying to paint.” Her voice comes out with a small tremble and she quickly tries to push it down.

 

“I think that’s the point.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“It’s okay.”

 

“No I mean it.” Rapunzel straightens up then, dropping her brush all together and giving him her full attention. “Thank you, for doing this.”

 

“It’s okay” he says again, casually, simply, as if he didn’t just help her reach an art breakthrough. He looks down at his own page then, eyes glowing with pride and holds the book up until it’s level with his chin. “I think you might have some competition though.”

 

“Really?” she challenges, her eyebrows furrowing.

 

Eugene flips the book around for her to see and it’s- it’s _something_. There are two eyes on the paper, one higher than the other and both different colours. There’s a mouth and two eyebrows and hair- a lot of hair. He’s got all the basics down but not quite in the right order.

 

She doesn’t mean to laugh, she really doesn’t, but she can’t help it when she notices her nose drawn half way down the page.

 

“Hey!” Eugene scolds “I worked hard on that! It’s my own artistic vision and-s _top laughing_!”

 

“Sorry” she tries, laughter coming in waves. “It’s-it’s really good, I promise!”

 

“You’re lying!”

 

“No I mean it!” she manages to compose herself, just enough to sit up straight and take another look at the drawing. “I really like how you’ve done my eyes, I never knew they were two different sizes.”

 

“Rapunzel” Eugene groans, tilting his back to stare at the ceiling and she has to bite her lip to stop the laughter from starting again.

 

“It really is good I swear” she repeats nodding firmly and waiting for him to look back at her. When he does, she grabs her brush from the floor and circles it in the air around the painting, thinking. “It just needs something.”

 

Eugene raises a brow over his book. “Needs what?”

 

“ _This_.”

 

Before he can register it, she lifts her brush and swipes a red line across the page and across the disfigured Rapunzel.  

 

Only the paint doesn’t just land on the paper like she had planned. Instead it keeps travelling downwards until it lands with a splat on Eugene’s jeans, the red quickly seeping into blue. She hears a gasp slip out of her own mouth and the sound of her brush falling back on the floor. Quickly, her eyes snap up to Eugene’s full of apologises, her hand raised in a gesture of surrender.  

 

“I swear I did not mean to do that.”

 

She really didn’t, at least not the jeans part, and she can’t stop the guilt from surging up her throat.

 

Eugene stares at the splatter above just his knee, his face giving nothing away. “It’s fine” he mutters under his breath.  

 

“No it’s not” Rapunzel begins rambling, reaching in to her bag in search of something suitable enough to wipe the paint off. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry. Those were probably expensive and paint is really hard to get out and I really should have just-”

 

She freezes suddenly at the feeling of wet paint sliding down her arm.

 

She was so focused on her guilt spiral that she failed to see Eugene reaching for the brush and swiping a strip of red onto the arm of her sweater, the paint seeping through the holes and onto her skin. When she looks back up at him, he’s all smiles, the brush still in his grasp.

 

He lifts one shoulder, his smirk growing. “Sorry.”

 

It all becomes a blur after that.

 

It starts with Rapunzel springing into action, grabbing another brush and loading it up with blue, sending it flying down the front of his shirt. They are both standing up at the same time, both armed and willing, stares locked and eyebrows raised. It’s Eugene firing first, paint spreading from the top of her jeans to the bottom and coating the protective sheets on the floor as it goes. Rapunzel’s launching forwards before he can register it and poking the bush into his side over and over again until his shirt is sprinkled with blue. Both of them start gathering up brushes and discarding others, swapping colours and sending the rainbow flying all over each other.  

 

Eugene reaches down to load up on paint, going for a pink and purple combination this time, running over to where Rapunzel is stationed behind an easel. It’s maybe not the best hiding place, he reaches her far too easily, but it’s all she had in these desperate times. He leaves smears of pink on her back and drops of purple on her arm and is fleeing in the opposite direction before she has the chance to catch him.

 

Her revenge comes later in the form of luring him over with the promise of a truce before green is being dragged down his neck and all the way down the front of his shirt. She only has a second to admire her work before he’s got his hand locked around her arm and is painting the back of her hand a combination of pink and purple. The paint blends together and she laughs loudly as she brushes her hand on his jeans to clean it.

 

There’s no clothing item left spared as they duck and run around the studio, being careful not to coat anything actually worth something in paint. Both their creations weren’t given the same fate though, being destroyed as they covered them in shades of yellow and red. There’s more switching of brushes until they give up all together and just use their hands to smear paint on the few inches still exposed. There’s paint soaring and words of war being shouted and laughter. So much laughter. It’s loud and reckless and it’s sure to be heard in the hallway by whoever may still be lurking around.

 

Neither off them care though, there’s a paint war to be won.

 

 

                                             

 

 

 

 

 

In the end they had called it a draw.

 

Well, it wasn’t really their decision to end it in the first place. The cleaner came by to do his daily rounds and once seeing the state they were in so kindly asked them to leave. They had both nodded guilty, wiped whatever paint they could off their hands and left as quick as they could. They continued laughing as they made it through campus, laughed at the stares they were getting from the occasional student walking across the quad, laughed even harder when they noticed they were leaving a trail. It was when they walking to their apartments that Eugene suggested that maybe they should dry off a little before going home. It took Rapunzel only a few seconds to think of Cassandra yelling at her to agree with him.    

 

It’s dark outside by the time they walk back through campus, each of them holding a dark red coffee cup. The server’s eyes had grown so wide when she saw them that they thought they would spare her by taking their drinks to go. They walk through the grounds aimlessly until Eugene leads them over to a bench in the middle of the courtyard, a dim street light hovering above them. They sit in silence for a while, sipping on their coffees and letting the sound of campus night life fill the air.

 

She’s not sure how long they sit there for before Eugene’s speaking again, his voice as soft as the night around them. “Can I ask another question?”

 

Rapunzel nods wordlessly, taking another sip of her coffee and wrapping her hands a little tighter around the cup for warmth.

 

He turns to look at, his eyes roaming her face in curiosity. “Did today help at all?”

 

She lowers her cup just below her chin, letting the steam overtake her for a moment. The paint on her fingers has started to harden so she busies herself with trying to pick it off her skin. “I think so. I mean I painted.”

 

Keeping her cup steady, she moves just enough to face him, her body turning on the bench. She watches him drinking his own drink, looking out at the empty campus beyond them and she wants to question what he sees in the dark. Instead, she hooks one arm over the back of the bench and rests her head loosely on her shoulder. “Somehow you just seem to make it easier.”

 

“Maybe it’s not me” he muses, sinking down slowly and leaning his head back on the bench until they’re at eye level.”Maybe it’s what you _feel_  when you paint me.” He lets his eyes wander over her face again, flickering over each cheek, her nose, her lips and then back up to her eyes. “Maybe it’s what you feel when you stop thinking. What do you feel?”

 

_What do you feel Rapunzel? What do you feel? What do you feel?_

 

She has no idea.

 

“I have no idea” she says aloud, her voice coming out on a sigh. “I don’t know.”

 

Eugene smiles, turning his head away to stare at the starless sky above them. “You’ll find it” he whispers, voice getting lost in the night.

 

She joins him, tilting her head upwards to peer into the darkness beyond, nothing but black and the small white of the moon.

 

“Can I ask you a question?” she says into the dark.

 

“Of course.”

 

“How does it feel to loose your first paint fight?”

 

He turns his head to look at her and let’s out a breathy laugh. “Who says it was my first?”

 

Rapunzel shrugs lazily, eyes closing to let the easy atmosphere consume her. “I can tell.”

 

“Besides-” Eugene continues, his voice washing over her “-I’m pretty sure _I_  won.”

 

“Whatever you say Fitzherbert.”

 

She can hear him sigh, shuffle a little on the bench and she wants to thank him again, wants to give him her undying gratitude for everything he’s done today. But she thinks he must already know. So she says nothing, let’s the silence envelope them, his words and the paint settling on her skin.

 

                                                                                 .                                    .                                .

 

 

Eventually, she makes it back to her apartment, high on coffee and laughter, and wastes no time walking to her room to rid of her paint stained clothes. Only on her way through the living room she notices something strange. Cassandra is lying on the sofa with her legs kicked up in the air and her phone grasped in her hands, the only light in the room a small lamp on their desk in the corner. It’s nothing totally out of the ordinary, she’s often found Cass in this position, but this time she’s smiling. Her happiness hating room mate is awake in the dark on their couch _smiling._  

 

She ventures further into the room, closing in on the couch, and can hear several notifications coming from Cass’ phone. Her smile widens with every one. If she were to listen closely, she thinks she can even hear Cass laughing.

 

“Hey!” Rapunzel calls out, walking the rest of the way over to the couch and looming over a now disgruntled Cass. Her eyes have narrowed into a squint and she’s trapped the phone against her chest. She look the perfect picture of annoyed.

 

“You’re back late” Cass says calmly, her eyes now taking in the paint covering Rapunzel’s clothes and part of Rapunzel herself. “What happened to you?”

 

She shrugs. “I painted.”

 

“Yourself?”

 

“I may have gotten carried away.”

 

Rapunzel narrows her eyes at Cassandra, waiting for her to explain what dimension she has just entered where Cass smiles.

 

“What?” she asks, head tilting to the side.

 

“You were smiling”

 

It may be dark in their apartment but Rapunzel can still still the faint blush beginning to creep up on her cheeks. Cass’ phone rings again, the screen lighting up her chest, and she waits to see her reaction. She’s not expecting an explanation, knows her friend isn’t that easy, but whatever she’s willing to share she will listen.

 

Instead, she gets a steady gaze in return, a face showing no sign of faltering.

 

“You have paint on ear” is all she says before jumping up off the couch and walking into her room, the door locking behind her. The silence envelopes her and she doesn’t try to fight her any further than that, she’ll let Cass keep her secret for tonight.

 

She walks into her room and discards her clothes in a pile by her door, promising to deal with them tomorrow. It feels nice to slip under the covers and she let’s out a small groan at the feeling of warmth the covers give her. She lays in the dark for a moment, staring at the ceiling, before her own phone lights up next to her. When she unlocks the screen, a smile forms on her lips.  

 

 ** _ **eugene.fitz**_**  I had fun painting you today

            

Maybe her and Cass both have secrets to keep tonight.  

 

 

 

 

 

                                                  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... it's been while. If you're still reading this, thank you for sticking with it and I'm sorry for making you wait so long. It was a struggle getting this chapter written, but I think I've found my groove again and should be getting the chapters out a lot quicker! Thank you again and I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Title from the song Mine Right Now- Sigrid


	6. Young Like This

                                                                

 

 

 

 

Eugene twirls his pen in between his fingers, purses his lips and then proceeds to write down a thought in his bright yellow notebook.

 

“Question” he says, his hand moving back and forth across his page frantically. “If you could have any pet, what would it be?”

 

Rapunzel laughs as she watches him work, each new little quirk of his bringing her more joy than the last. It had started off with him wrinkling his nose when he first opened his book, settling down to start reading. He had relaxed a little more in his chair and kicked his feet up onto the empty one next to him, his finger following along with his eyes as he moved from line to line. Now, she observes him as he’s twirling his pen and pursing his lips as he thinks of an idea and rushes to write to it.

 

If she’s being honest, she’s enjoying this a little too much. It shouldn’t be very interesting watching someone quite literally sit and read, but she can’t seem to help it, even when she has her own work on the table in front of her. This morning she woke up feeling inspired and had made it all of five seconds before she was texting Eugene and asking if he was free for a study session. Every time after he had offered to help her, she began to feel guilty, Eugene was spending so much time on her studies that she wanted to offer up something to help in return. After her suggestion, he had agreed easily giving her the term that she would take him anywhere outside of the apartment - apparently Lance isn’t the best study partner.

 

So, that’s how it had been over the last two weeks, one of them asking for a place to study and the other asking for a distraction. It worked perfectly. Currently, they’re sat in the Cafe at a table way in the back corner, Rapunzel attempting to draw and Eugene writing an essay on the book he is reading for class.

 

Rapunzel hums quietly and eventually draws another line on her page. “A chameleon.”

 

He lifts his eyes to hers from over his book, one eyebrow raised. “A chameleon?”

 

“They’re cute.”

 

“They’re just overgrown frogs.”

 

They’ve been keeping up the question game as well. It had worked so well the first time that Eugene suggested they just keep doing it.

 

“Okay animal expert, what about you?” she asks him, pointing her pencil in his direction and swirling it in a circle as she waits.

 

“Easy, a grasshopper.”

 

“Ah!” she says, her pencil flying in the air as she leans back in her chair. “Perfect food for my chameleon.”

 

Eugene drops his book, lowers it down to his lap and throws her an offended look. It’s annoying how cute he looks like this. One of his hands slams down on the table as he leans that little bit closer over to her. “Excuse me. Grasshoppers are wise and independent; they would not end up as food!”

 

Her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “You started it.”

 

“I was simply stating a fact.”

 

“So was I.”

 

“Okay” he says nodding his head slowly, retreating away until he’s sat up straight again, staring her down. “I’ll let you have your chameleon. But when you lose it to a game of hide and seek don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 

She can’t help but laugh and she’s not sure if she’s laughing at Eugene sulking or the imagery of losing hide and seek to a chameleon. It’s probably both. She pauses drawing in favour of sipping at her coffee, some latte concoction Eugene had recommended, and lets her eyes wonder back over to him. Across the table, he has gone back to his book, but she can hear him laugh too, it’s not as loud as hers though as he tries to keep up his annoyed act and his smile hidden between his pages. 

 

“That any good?” she asks, nodding towards the book in question. 

 

She hasn’t asked him what it was that he was reading, wanted to save herself the embarrassment of never having heard of it before, but he hasn’t said much about it since they sat down and it has her curious.

 

“What?”

 

“The book? You enjoying it?”

 

“Of course.”

 

She lets out a hum. “The look on your face says otherwise.”

 

He swaps his book to one hand and pulls his mug closer with the other deciding to play with the handle instead of drinking anything. “It’s fine. It’s just-” he sighs “-tragedies are not my thing.”

 

“Question then” she states, and he smiles at her copying his announcement from before. “What _is_ your thing?”

 

It goes quiet for a moment around them as Eugene thinks it over, lifting his mug and actually taking a sip from it this time. After Eugene’s recommendation she had offered up one of her own going for her traditional sugar filled cappuccino. The look he had given her was one that had her howling on the inside. He places his drink back on the table, fingers still tapping on the porcelain.

 

“I like adventures and romance and happy endings. I just don’t see why someone has to die to make it epic.”

 

“You don’t think you can have a death and it still be a happy ending?”

 

“You can if they come back to life.”

 

Rapunzel rolls her eyes playfully and steals the last sugar cube from the pot provided, popping it into her drink. She doesn’t miss Eugene’s flinch at her extraordinary sweet tastes.

 

“What, you don’t believe in resurrection?” he questions sending her a soft smirk.

 

“It’s not really realistic.”

 

“It’s fiction, it’s not supposed to be realistic.”

 

Okay, so he has a point, but she won’t give him the satisfaction of being right. Instead she’s stays quiet and nods, waving her hand at him in the only gesture of surrender she’s willing to give. His smile widens on cue and he leans back into his chair, the perfect picture of smug. “Besides, I think it would be cool to come back to life.” _Of course, he would._ “Maybe I would even come back with supernatural abilities. Maybe super strength or magical healing powers.”

 

“That’s what you want in life, superpowers?”

 

He shrugs slightly, picking up his pen, beginning to doodle something in the corner of his page. “I just think it would be cool to help people. To have the ability to heal those who can’t heal themselves.”

 

The way Eugene says it is way too casual for the way her heart leaps in her chest. He says it like it’s nothing, like saving the world is no big deal to him and here she is _melting_. It’s just one of the things that she’s learnt about him during their time together - how much he cares about things. He sees the world as something he needs to take care of but doesn’t think he has enough impact to actually do it. It’s clear in the way he shrugs off every one of her thank you’s or how he never thinks that dropping everything for Lance when he calls is a big deal.

 

“You don’t need superpowers to help people Eugene.” Taking his lead, she shuffles forward in her seat and picks up where she left off on her drawing. “I think you’re doing a great job without them.”

 

He doesn’t answer her, but she can see him smiling and she thinks she might be a little bit in love with that smile. It’s really a miracle that she hasn’t drawn it today, it’s always the first thing she goes for. But she wasn’t lying when she said she was inspired. It’s been her first breakthrough since the assignment was set and this time, she thinks she might have an actual plan. All this time she’s been focused on the emotion she’s supposed to convey that she failed to focus on _how_ emotions are told. One mention of this to Eugene and he was more than happy to be the model. So now she’s spent the last few hours capturing any emotion she can find in place where Eugene holds all his expression, his eyes.  

 

She looks up at him again, pencil placed right on the tip of his brow, and asks him to wiggle the real thing just a little just so she can get the right angle. He does it without question but throws in a well-practised brow dance for fun.

 

“You really think my eyebrows are going to help you graduate?” Eugene asks, his eyes gleaming.

 

“No, but they’re so perfectly manicured I can’t resist adding them.”

 

He laughs. “I would think so.”

 

“I haven’t worked out all the details” she starts, shading and erasing and shading again. “But it’s the first idea I haven’t actually hated.”

 

“What does your adviser say?” It comes out muffled as he says it more into his book than to her, his focus on the line he’s reading. She doesn’t mind though; her adviser has been driving her crazy lately so the little she talks about her the better. 

 

“Nothing yet. I have a meeting with her on Wednesday, so I guess I’ll find out then.”

 

He looks up at her, pen freezing in place. “Make sure you let me know what she says about my eyebrows.”

 

A giggle escapes her before she can stop it and it echoes a little too loudly in the quiet corner they’re in. It’s only interrupted when a light ringing comes from Eugene’s phone. Coming out of his own laughter, he picks it up, unlocks the screen and sits back in his chair as he reads. Usually, she’s not one to be nosy, especially when it comes to people’s messages, but when she watches Eugene frown at his phone and her curiosity surges.

 

“You okay?” she asks casually, fiddling with her pencil as she pretends to draw and not pay attention to his private life.

 

His eyes lift to hers and his head is shaking as he sighs out a laugh. “Yeah I’m fine.” He abandons his phone back on the table, pushing it further away, ignoring it completely as it rings again.

 

She’s just about to ask him if he’s _sure_ he’s okay again when a voice interrupts her.    

 

“Well someone’s being grumpy.”

 

The voice comes from behind her, deep and booming, and she moves her head immediately to the source. Standing next to their table is Lance, bag slung over his shoulder and a script tucked under his arm. She hasn’t actually _met_ Lance yet, only seen him in photos and responded to a few of his comments, but as he shoves Eugene over to the next chair and takes his place in his now vacant seat, she knows she's going to love him already.

 

Ignoring Eugene’s grumble, he sends one arm flying over Eugene’s shoulder and the other one stretches out in Rapunzel’s direction.

 

“We haven’t had the chance to actually meet” he announces, voice dripping with confidence. He’s just as dramatic as she thought he would be. “Lance. The best friend and roommate of this idiot here.” He nods his head in Eugene’s direction and rolls his eyes at Eugene’s small offended yelp.

 

“Rapunzel.” She’s laughing as she takes his hand in hers and lets him shake it vigorously. “The study buddy of the idiot.”

 

“I am right here!” Eugene moans from the corner, doing his best to move around Lance and move his supplies to his new side of the table. He aims for his coffee but fails when Lance is scooping it up first and not hesitating before he takes a sip. She watches as his eyes widen and snap up to hers. 

 

“A little sugary?” she suggests with a smile.

 

Lance is shaking his head before she finishes the question, going in for another sip. “Now _you_ have good taste princess.”

 

“Princess?” Her eyebrow quirks up at that, looking over to Eugene for any type of help. It takes him a couple seconds to register the plea before he’s sitting up and pointing towards the flower crown on top of her head.

 

“He’s been rehearsing some Shakespearean play all week and keeps coming home talking about fairies and royals. I’ve lost count on how many flower crowns he’s asked me to wear.”

 

Lance’s jaw drops as he lets out an offended gasp, slapping his hand against his chest. “Firstly, that Shakespearean play is the wonder that is A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” He moves his arm from Eugene’s shoulder to throw it around his neck, locking it in place as he fluffs his hair with his free hand. “Secondly, you would look adorable in a crown.”

 

She has to agree with that.

 

Using his best effort, Eugene tries to break free, twisting his body out of Lance’s grip. However, when he comes a little too close to her coffee cup, he decides to give up in favour of not repeating their first coffee fiasco. It just encourages Lance to rub more though and she’s pretty sure Eugene will end up walking out of here with a static hair Mohawk. She is pretty much helpless to his case at this point, so she sits back and has fun just watching their dynamic play out.

 

It’s only when Eugene let’s out a desperate sob of protest that she finally chips in to help.

 

“I have a question for you Lance.” It’s said loud enough for him to hear over Eugene’s pleads. She ignores Eugene’s glare at her bringing Lance into their little question game and instead focuses on how Lance lights up like a Christmas tree. He removes himself from his helpless friend and turns to fully face her, elbows on the table and his chin perched in his palms.

 

“You have my full attention.”

 

“Would you make me a flower crown?” Lifting her arms up, she takes the one she’s wearing off her head and spins it around her fingers. “This one is a little old and it sounds like you have all the expertise.”

 

Lance looks delighted. He reaches over to take the crown from her, twisting it in his hands like how she had just done, inspecting the slightly broken flowers and fraying wire. She’s not exactly sure what he’s looking for, but he seems satisfied enough and hands the crown back.

 

“I like you” he says, a smirk curving his lips, picking up Eugene’s coffee again and finishing the rest of its contents in a gulp. “Maybe I should have met you first.”

 

She lets out a snort. “Are you saying you like me better than Eugene?”

 

“That is exactly what I’m saying.”

 

“Okay” Eugene says, pushing Lance on his shoulder causing him to sway in his seat. He keeps both of his hands up in defence, one in Lance’s direction and one in hers. There are small lines on his forehead from where he’s frowning and she makes a note to draw them just to torment him with later. “We’re supposed to be writing an essay here, not pointing out all my flaws.”

 

“But isn’t the point of an essay? To see something from both sides?” she says sweetly, eyes dancing as she stares at him.

 

“Well I could think of a few things to say about Eugene. Did you know he sleeps-”

 

Whatever Lance was about to say she never finds out, Eugene stunning him into silence with a death look.

 

“Why are you still here?” Eugene mumbles from where he’s slumped in his chair, arms crossed in front of him. “I thought you said you had lines to run after your shift?”

 

“Oh I do, but you’re going to help me.”

 

Eugene lifts a brow. “Am I now?”

 

“Yep” Lance says, popping the p dramatically. He turns to face his friend, poking him lightly in the chest with his finger. “You made me a promise. I do face masks with you, you run lines with me.”

 

Rapunzel beams at this new detail. “You do face masks?”

 

“Of course he does.” Lance grabs the bottom of Eugene’s chin, squishes it between his fingers and begins to swing it left to right. “You don’t get smooth skin like this without a bit of self-care.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Eugene finally bats Lance’s hands away, holding them in place far away from himself. “Are we going to run those lines or are you going to stay and be annoying?”

 

He pretends to think about it for a moment before looking back over to Rapunzel. “Mind if I steal him princess?”

 

She shakes her head and waves a hand in their direction. “Go ahead.”

 

“You sure?” Eugene asks and she’s not sure if he’s genuinely concerned about her art or his own sanity.

 

“I’m sure.”

 

“You are the best” Lance is saying as he starts gathering up all of Eugene’s supplies before he has a chance to do so himself. Although, he’s quick to join in when Lance haphazardly throws his book in his bag and Eugene gawks at the mistreating. _Book nerds and their priorities_. Once all the supplies are away, he scoots his chair back and pauses before standing up, his eyes lighting up with an idea.

 

He points a finger towards her. “Are you free this Friday?”

 

“Yeah” she nods. She’s free every Friday, but he doesn’t need to know that.

 

“Would you be up for a mission?”

 

“A mission?”

 

“It’s this thing the drama students do before a show” Eugene answers for her, already looking done with the idea. “They get into teams and-”

 

“And it’s a secret.” Lance interrupts him, rushing to shut Eugene up with a hand slapped over his mouth. “Don’t listen to grumpy here, it’s a sacred tradition and you would be a very useful addition to the team.”

 

Eugene yanks his hand away from his mouth and uses Lance’s shirt sleeve to wipe himself clean. “I don’t really think you can call the two of us a team.”

 

“You can even bring someone.” He continues, ignoring Eugene entirely. “It will be fun I promise.”

 

“Sure. I’ll bring my roommate and then maybe Eugene won’t be the only grumpy one there.”

 

Lance’s smile is feral. “Now _that_ is an excellent idea.”

 

 

                                                                                               

 

 

 

When she finally arrives at her adviser’s office it’s a little later than she had planned. She’s not late, right on time really, but with last night’s panic session and her sleeping right through her alarm this morning, her plan to scramble together one last piece has flown out the window. There are enough pieces to get her point across, all of them lined up neatly in her sketchbook, but since she’s not had the best inspiration lately the empty pages are still enough to send her spiralling. Most of her night was spent on the phone to Eugene, his warm smiles and calm reassurances soaking through the screen and washing over her room. He hadn’t managed to calm her completely, but he got her serene enough to at least eat something before falling asleep. It’s yet another thing she has to thank him for later.

 

She adjusts her bag on her shoulder and knocks gently on the door, taking a heavy breath as she waits. Deep down she knows that her adviser won’t criticise her for no reason, she’s honestly a nice person when it comes down to it, but like anyone she does have her moments. Typically, she is thrilled to have you in her office, offering you a cup of hot chocolate when you arrive and she even doesn’t mind when you call her by her real name. It’s clear she cares about the students under her wing and that she is nothing but in love with the subject. But sometimes, when she wants to be stern, all she has to do is look at you the wrong way for you to feel like you’re in trouble.

 

It only takes a few seconds before the door is being swung open and she’s being greeted with a bright hello.

 

Today, Sasha is wearing a set of denim overalls over a pale-yellow t-shirt, her hair is twisted into a bun on top of her head with two pink pencils poking out the top. Her make up is a collection of colours and from what she can see over her shoulder there are also two full cups sitting on her desk ready to be consumed.

 

“Rapunzel. Come on in” Sasha smiles, opening the door further for Rapunzel to squeeze through.

 

The office is pretty small compared to the ones of her professors, but she really likes what Sasha has done with the space. There are paintings covering every wall, a blue patterned rug covering the boring floorboards and several random pieces of memorabilia from several countries dotted around on shelves. If anyone were to guess what this person did for a living, they wouldn’t be guessing for too long.

 

They each take up a seat on either side of the desk, Sasha deciding to gracefully lift up her legs and cross them over on her chair. Rapunzel snorts as the chair spins a little whilst she gets herself situated. Once she is stable and she’s comfortable in her pretzel position, she stretches her arms over the desk and makes grabbing movements with her hands towards Rapunzel’s sketchbook.

 

She hands it over a little reluctantly, holding her breath as she watches Sasha place it down on the desk and start flipping through the pages. Of course, she skips right past the couple of pages of theory at the beginning and lands straight on the first couple of sketches.

 

“So, tell me what I’m seeing” she says, fingers tracing the pencil outline of an eye as if she’s trying to come up with a conclusion of her own. That’s what she tends to do in these meetings, she lets you pour your heart out over your work and then slashes your ideas with the ones she thinks are better.

 

“They’re eyes” Rapunzel mutters quietly and Sasha shoots her an unamused look. “I _mean_ they’re what eyes can express. The assignment is that you have to capture a feeling, so that’s what I tried to do.”

 

“And what feeling exactly are you trying to capture?”

 

“I don’t know, whatever it is I’m seeing at the time.”

 

She lifts her eyes to meet Rapunzel’s stare, her head titled in question as her finger freezes on the drawing of Eugene she did after their first paint session. He had looked so genuinely happy in that art studio that she knew she had to have it drawn down somewhere that wasn’t destroyed with paint. “And what were you seeing when you drew this?”

 

She thinks about it for a moment, thinks back to the art studio and smiles. “Happiness. How someone’s happiness can look from the outside.”

 

“And that’s how you see this person’s happiness? Blues and teals?”

 

She shrugs, staring at the drawing herself. She wasn’t really thinking about the colours, they made Eugene look pretty so she used them. “Yeah.”

 

Sighing gently, Sasha leans back in her chair, her eyes still staring into Rapunzel’s soul. It’s extremely off putting. “Rapunzel” she begins, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “These sketches are good, amazing even, but they don’t meet the assessment brief.”

 

She shakes her head in confusion. “I don’t see what you mean?”

 

Using her hands as leverage, she pulls herself closer to the desk and lifts all the pages in the book at once, letting them fall back down one by one in a fanning motion. “The emotion is supposed to be yours, something that only you feel as you paint it. It’s supposed to be personal and a fragment of who you are, not someone who models for you.”

 

Even though she was expecting the worst, she has to admit it hurts to hear it out loud. She drops her head down to focus on her hands in her lap and not at the look of disappointment in Sasha’s eyes. “I’ve tried to get there, _I have_ ” she winces a little at how desperate she sounds. “But nothing seems to work.”

 

“Look” she says, Rapunzel’s attention snapping back to her. “You have a month left to present your angle. That’s more than enough time for you to figure it out okay?”

 

Rapunzel nods once, her eyes blinking rapidly to bat away the suspicious moisture threatening to spill over.

 

“And if don’t have it by then?” she asks and it comes out as more of a squeak. “I fail?”

 

“We’re not there yet so don’t you worry about that.”

 

She releases the breath she’s been holding, her eyes fixed on her sketches laid out before her.

 

“It’s not the end of the world Rapunzel. Just try to think less and you’ll be fine.”

 

Right now, she thinks she the furthest from fine that she can be. She’s already tried not thinking with Eugene and the result of that was still torn to shreds. How is she supposed to improve her ideas without thinking when not thinking is all she can think about?

 

“How am I supposed to do that?” She asks it out loud, throws her insecurities out there, lays it all on the table. “How am I supposed to not think when that’s what everyone is telling me to do?”

 

Sasha relaxes then, calms her face into something more empathetic and a little less adviser mode. She places her elbows back on the desk and leans on them. “Can I tell you a secret?” Rapunzel stays quiet but nods anyway, allowing her to continue. “You are one of the most talented people in this class. But you’re scared, you have a wall up and that is affecting what you produce. Art isn’t always just about the pretty colours and fancy details, it’s about expression. And Rapunzel, sometimes it’s the bad things that we have to express.”

 

“So, I have to feel something negative in order to pass?”

 

“No-” she laughs “-but you have to be willing to open yourself up to the bad stuff. You can’t be afraid to really see what’s inside of you. If you do that then you’re not giving the good things a chance to surface.”

 

Rapunzel doesn’t mean to roll her eyes, _really_ , but she’s still a little tired and her rational brain is taking a break. Sasha doesn’t seem to mind though, even laughs at it, and instead nudges the second cup in her direction. Rapunzel grabs it without hesitation, using her sipping as a distraction from everything else going on in this room. 

 

Using the pause to her advantage, Sasha swivels her chair around to grab a book from the shelf behind her, flipping it over to a clean page. “Here” she says grabbing a pen from the side, one with bright pink ink, and scribbling something down. “There’s an art gallery next week from one of my former students, who like you had trouble connecting with her emotions.” She rips the paper out of her book, folds it in half and hands it over to Rapunzel. “Go, take a look around, maybe ask her a few questions. Even the darkest ones.”

 

She takes the paper and promptly unfolds it, the familiar address staring back at her. It’s a well-known gallery in the city, one she has visited frequently, one she aspires to one day to be featured in. Of course, Sasha would be sending her there of all places, to torment her probably.

 

“It will come Rapunzel, trust me. But until then take some time for yourself, go find your friends and have some fun.” Her eyebrow raises as she smirks softly. “Sometimes you find inspiration in the weirdest of places.”

 

She smiles a little at that, a book fort and a boy coming to mind. “Like a library?”

 

“I was thinking weirder but that’s a good place to start I guess.”

 

She nods and stuffs her sketchbook in her bag, standing up and taking the hot chocolate with her. “Thank you.”

 

Sasha smiles, as bright as she did when she first opened the door. “Remember, I’m always here for you.”

 

She knows that, it’s quite literally her job, but she doesn’t point out that little fact. Instead she keeps quiet and takes her leave, walking out the office with more defeat than she went in with. It’s just her luck that when she steps into the empty hallway, fully intending to run home and curl up on the couch, her phone decides to start ringing in her pocket. She fishes it out of her jacket and sighs when the name lights up on her screen.

 

_Do not answer_

 

Without thinking twice, she swipes the red button across the screen and waits for the phone to fall silent. A few moments pass, no voice mail is left, so she stuffs the phone back in her pocket and makes her way home to where the couch awaits. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                             

 

 

 

 

“Remind me again why I’m being forced to leave the house tonight?”

 

Dragging her zip the rest of the way up on her jacket, she laughs at Cass whining from where she’s lying on the couch - her feet kicked up in the air as she aimlessly scrolls on her phone.

 

“You’re not being _forced_ ” she says putting emphasis on the last word. “You’re coming because you’re my friend and you want to support me.”

 

“Support you flirting with library boy?”

 

She turns to face her as she begins gathering up her freshly curled hair on top of her head and ties it off with an elastic. “ _No_ , you’re supporting me and the fact that after being told my art sucks I need to let of some steam. And the boys have kindly given me an opportunity to do so.”

 

Cass moves then, dropping her legs on to the floor and heaving her body up into a sitting position. “Your art doesn’t suck Raps, you’re just-”

 

“Over thinking” she interrupts. “Yeah I’ve been told.”

 

Tightening the ends of her ponytail, she slumps against the wall and watches as Cassandra stands up to walk towards her. Both of her hands rise to rest on her shoulders and squeeze gently.

 

“That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

 

“Then what were you going to say?”

 

“I was _going_ to say” she starts, giving her a gentle shake. “That you are being too harsh on yourself. All you do is work Raps, no wonder you’re a little stuck.”

 

She scoffs at that, her eyebrows raising in offence. “I do not work all the time.”

 

“Please, I know you and I know how much pressure you put on yourself. Loosen up a little and live life! Who cares if your art sucks.”

 

“So, it does suck.”

 

Cass slumps in her spot, her face the perfect picture of annoyed. “You’re already dragging me to who the hell knows what, do you really want to give me something else to be mad at? I had plans you know.”

 

She does know, those plans were mentioned when she first brought this night up, even though she never actually shared the details on what those plans were. They seem important though with how much she’s been complaining tonight about cancelling them. A pang of guilt unfurls in her chest. 

 

“I know” she says, sinking further down the wall. “And I feel guilty that you cancelled them, I’m just-” she trails off in a sigh, her words no longer being useful to her. Another thing to add to the list of things she’s failing at.

 

Cassandra nods in understanding, her grip on her shoulders loosening. She shuffles backwards and drops her arms, turning around to grab her jacket from where it was thrown over the back of a dining chair. She slips her arms through the sleeves and zips it all the way up. “So, what exactly do those boys have planned?”

 

Truthfully, she just as oblivious as Cass is. Neither Eugene or Lance had given her more details than to meet them outside of their building and to make sure they’re wearing all black- socks included. Despite her concerns, she did her best to meet their instructions digging out some old leggings she had at the bottom of her drawer and adding her classic denim jacket. Black wasn’t really her colour of choice, it’s too dark for her tastes, and so she struggled a lot more than she thought to find something to wear. Cassandra, on the other hand, had no problem and was already dressed head to toe in black when she told her about their plans. She’s followed Rapunzel with the black leggings, but has spiced it up a little with a lacy top and a leather jacket. _If you’re going to get in trouble, do it in style_ she had said when she walked out of her room earlier.  

 

Rapunzel turns to face the hallway mirror, pulling the base of her ponytail to tighten it. “I don’t know, but they were very specific about this being a secret.”

 

“Drama nerds” Cass whines from behind her, moving forward to meet Rapunzel’s reflection in the mirror.

 

Rapunzel smiles sweetly back at her. “Do I look mission ready?”

 

Leaning down, Cass plants a loud kiss on her jacket covered shoulder. “Library boy won’t know what hit him.”

 

“ _Shut up_.”

 

When they eventually make it out of their building, Lance and Eugene are making good on their promise and are already waiting for them outside. They’re both dressed in black, each with two flashlights in hand and smiling up at them as they walk the rest of the distance over the courtyard. She notices that Lance has a backpack over one shoulder and is sporting two dark stripes on each of his cheeks. It’s the first thing she points out when she reaches them. 

 

“Planning on going to war?” she asks, wrapping her arms around herself. Apparently, they’ve chosen one of the coldest nights to do - whatever it is they’re doing.

 

Lance straightens up, face going serious and extends both his arms out to her. “These are your lifeline. Be careful how you use them.” He says it like a command and completely out of nowhere- not at all the greeting she was expecting.

 

“Okay” she drags out, squinting her eyes in confusion. Lance stays silent, pushing the flashlights forward until she gets the massage and takes them both. Cassandra rolls her eyes when she tries to give her hers, turning her body away in complete protest. It may be dark, but the disapproval of her friend is as clear as day and she wonders what kind of plan for Lance she is currently conjuring up in her head. Nothing good she assumes. She keeps hold of the torch, hanging it loosely by her side in case Cass changes her mind.

 

“Once it starts, we won’t have much time, so we all have to play our part” Lance says, reaching to open his backpack and pull out a rolled-up piece of paper. He unrolls it in front of them, stretching it out to reveal a poorly drawn map of campus. There are small dots and lines of varying colours scatted all over the diagram and she thinks she can see their names labelling some of them.    

 

Holding in her laugh, she looks up at Eugene for any help in understanding what’s going on. “Once what starts exactly?”

 

He’s standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, watching his friend with an unimpressed expression. “We’re going to break into the theatre.”

 

“We’re going to _what_?”

 

“Shh!” Lance interrupts. “We can’t get caught before we’ve even started.”

 

Cassandra breaks out into laughter, fake laughter, the kind of laughter you know is just to taunt. She throws her hand over her chest and leans forward in exaggeration. “Are you serious? You’re telling me you made us come out in the middle of the night to break into a school theatre?”

 

“Oh, he’s serious” Eugene clicks on his flashlight, moving it until it’s beam focuses on Rapunzel. “It’s not too late to back out, Princess.” He says the last part with a smirk, his eyes shining in the dark, fully making fun of his best friend. She knows this is payback for how she teamed up with Lance in the Cafe.

 

She shakes her head. “I’m all in if you are.”

 

He shrugs happily. “I guess I’m all in then.”

 

“Seriously?” Cassandra whines “you made me cancel my plans to help two idiots break into a campus building that has absolutely no value or worth?”

 

“The building has no worth, no.” Eugene says, moving closer to Cassandra, and he really is brave for doing so. One eyebrow raises as he purses his lips in thought. “But the reward, maybe.”

 

“A reward?”

 

“Hmm, but it’s only for those who participate.”

 

Cassandra stares at him and Rapunzel can tell she’s considering it. If there’s one thing Cass loves, it’s free stuff and she would do just about anything to get it-including breaking and entering. Rapunzel smiles as she watches her go through the waves of emotion, from hating every second of this to being angry that she might just want to participate. Eugene’s smiling too, a slow satisfied smirk, knowing that he’s won, and Rapunzel might just burst. Confidence is a good look on him.

 

“Fine.” Cass spits out eventually, snatching the torch off Rapunzel and shinning the light directly into Lance’s face. He’s not phased at all, eyes too busy scanning his makeshift map. “You better have a good plan.”

 

Apparently, he does have a plan, calling it a good one though might be a bit of a stretch. According to Eugene, the aim of this night is to be the first team to successfully break into the theatre, take a picture standing centre stage and post it online without getting caught. It seems it’s harder than expected tough as no one has quite managed to complete it all the way through in at least a few years. Lance, however, seems determined that this year is the year of victory vowing that he will not graduate until he’s beaten it.  

 

He went on to explain that this year with the addition of the two new members, it gives them an advantage, giving them more chances to reach the finish line. All members of the team must be caught for a group disqualification and this way, with them all spit up, it's hard to get caught. The first part of Lance's plan is seemingly easy, they need to cross campus without being seen. At this time of night, the area is pretty much abandoned anyway, just a few stragglers going from party to party or a night owl studying. No one is really paying attention to four students running across campus in ridiculous black outfits and carrying flashlights.

 

They do have fun with it though, just because they can, jumping over benches and rolling over the grass mission impossible style. She’s hiding pressed up behind a wall, pausing to snap a quick picture, when she feels Eugene collapse next to her, his shoulder pushed up against hers. His breath is a little laboured and it makes her laugh, out of all them he seems to be the one going overboard. He almost broke his ankle scaling a fence instead of just using the already unlocked gate.

 

He turns to face her, wiggling his eyebrows. “Having fun?”

 

“Honestly?” she smiles, shaking her head. “I am.”

 

“Good.” Even in the dark that smile is doing weird things to her heart. “Because once things start to get serious, I can’t have you thinking I’m weird or something.”

 

“This isn’t serious?”

 

“Not even close. Lance hasn’t even broken out the codes names yet.”

 

She snorts. “Let me guess, yours is something nerdy and poetic.”

 

He shrugs shyly and the movement against her own arms send shivers down her spine. “He changes them each time we do this, so it will be as much of a surprise to me.”

 

She looks up at him, eyes filled with mischief. “Does he have a name for me?”

 

“He adores you, so I don’t think you have to worry.”

 

“And what would you call me?”

 

He pushes up from the wall and stands in front of her, eyes scanning her up and down. It makes her close in on herself a little, not used to being stared at like this, but it’s not entirely uncomfortable. She doesn’t know if that’s because it’s almost completely dark where they’re standing or because it’s Eugene that’s looking.

 

His eyes meet hers again, one corner of his mouth curving in a smirk. “Blondie.”

 

She rolls her eyes as she scoffs. “How original.”

 

He’s about to say something in retaliation when her phone starts ringing, a little too loud for the silence of the night. She pulls it from her pocket and quickly puts it on silent before Lance yells at her for ruining the mission. She reads the message on the screen and giggles.

 

“It’s Cass” she says, looking back at Eugene who still staring at her. “She needs rescuing from Lance.”

 

“Well we better get going” he says, moving his flashlight over to the path next to them. He stands there for a moment, smiling softly, before extending his arm out to her, his hand being offered to take. “Shall we?”

 

She stares at him, mouth slightly open, and places her hand in his. “Let’s go.”

 

His hand tightens around hers, gripping gently, before he’s pulling her from the wall and breaking out into a run. They both try to keep their laughs quiet as they run through campus, ducking every now and again behind buildings and cars when they see another team in the distance. It’s what makes this fun, the sense of competition. Eugene pulls her along, his steps bigger than hers, until they can see Cassandra sat on the floor against a tree tapping away on her phone. Lance is stood next to her, frowning down, and it looks like he’s giving her some type of lecture.

 

“Do you have _any_ respect for the arts?” Lance is whispering when they approach.

 

“Not at all.” Cass says bored.

 

“What is it you are actually study again? You don’t seem the intelligent type.”

 

“I’m not the what?” She snaps, locking her phone and jumping up, stare meeting his. She starts to take a step forward when Rapunzel leaps on her, arms locking around her waist to keep her in place. Cassandra snaps her teeth and Lance screeches appropriately. “You want to say that again drama boy?”

 

He stays quiet which is probably the best for everyone.

 

Taking the lead, Eugene steps forward and points his light over to the wall next to them, revealing the stage door sign hanging above. It’s still dark which means they’re the first ones here – one of the requirements of the mission being to turn it on- and she can see it sends a wave of relief washing over Lance. According to their run down earlier, this is only how far he’s manged to get before being tapped out by security. Hopefully, it’s enough for now to keep him and Cass from killing each other.

 

Nodding her head towards the door, she turns her focus to Lance. “Now what mastermind?”

 

Cass mutters something at that but everyone ignores it, Lance straightening himself up back into leader mode. “Now, it’s your turn. Have you got the pin?”

 

Humming, she digs around in her pocket and produces two bobby pins as he requested earlier. She doesn’t have time to ask what he needs them for before Eugene is swiping them up and begins making his way over to the door. They all follow suit, Cassandra falling behind, sneaking across the grass until they all huddle under the small brick archway. Slowly, Eugene gets on his knees in front of the door signalling to Lance to shine his light over the lock, Rapunzel being told to stand guard. Below her, Eugene seamlessly inserts the pin in the lock and begins moving it back and forth searching for the inner mechanism.

 

“You’ve done this before?” she asks, a little impressed and a bit concerned.  

 

He glances at her quickly, his eyes a little cold and cut off, before going back to the task at hand. “A few times, when I was a kid.” He goes quiet and continues to work, the only sound the clicking of metal as Eugene works the pin and the lock pops opens. Lance lets out a small squeal before quieting himself with a hand over his mouth. He gives his friend a high five in thanks and moves to pull the door open. He freezes in the threshold and turns to the group, a wide smile on his face.

 

“Ready?”

 

“Ready” Rapunzel whispers back the same time as Cassandra moans a “ _Hell no_.”

 

After flicking on the stage door sign, Lance leads the way through the theatre choosing to skip the traditional hallways and take them through the back-utility area. It’s a tight squeeze, only enough for them to stay in single file, different coloured wires and ropes hanging from the ceiling and draped on the floor. Her foot gets caught a few times sending her falling into Cassandra behind her, earning her a small “ _idiot_ ” from her friend. They duck under beams and step over boxes and climb a ladder at the end of the hallway, Lance wincing at how loud it rattles.

 

He pauses at the top, keeping a lookout as the rest of them climb their way up and over into what appears to be the control room. There are computers and control tables filling the room, a window ahead of them overlooking the stage. Thankfully, it’s blissfully empty. From his position upfront, Lance turns around and smiles wide, the face of success.

 

“Ready for the fun part?” He whispers, shutting off his torch and nodding at them to do the same. The room is bathed in complete darkness except from the blinking green light coming from the security camera up above.

 

“There’s a fun part to this?” Cassandra says, taking off her jacket and wrapping it around her waist.

 

“Yes, because now we run.”

 

“Run to where?” Rapunzel asks, keeping her voice hushed.

 

Eugene turns to face her, smirk forming, before suddenly taking off and running out of the room. She watches on in confusion, it only clicking when she can see something moving beyond the window, running down the stairs in between the seats towards the stage. A small yelp echoes through the theatre as he makes it to the stage, turning his light back on, illuminating him as he twirls and jumps in a circle.

 

Lance grabs her by the arm and begins pulling her out the room, Rapunzel following suit and dragging Cass behind her. The three of them pause at the top of the stairs, sharing glances with each other, before they take off flying down the theatre. She can’t see very clearly, her hair flying with the wind she’s making, but she doesn’t care, she’s never had this much fun before. Lance is ahead of her taking two steps at a time and cheering the closer he gets; she can even hear Cass let out something close to a laugh behind her. She can't help but throw in a cheer of her own. When they reach the bottom, they jump up onto the stage, Rapunzel and Lance shedding their jackets as they lean over out of breath.

 

Eugene strolls over to them, light held under his chin, laughing. “You guys need to exercise more.”

 

Lance shoots him a grimace. “Not all of us can be parkour experts, Eugene.”

 

Cassandra perks up a little at that, sending him an impressed smile. “Parkour? Nice.”

 

He preens under her compliment, a slight blush forming on his cheeks.

 

“Alright” Lance begins, standing up and gaining his breath back. “We need the photo otherwise this whole thing would be for nothing.”

 

“Well we wouldn’t want that.” Cassandra says and she can see Lance wince a little in fear at the grin on Cassandra’s face.  

 

Avoiding her at all costs, Lance shuffles them into a circle and pulls out his phone, ushering them closer to snap a picture for their proof. They all turn their lights back on, setting the stage alight, giving him the best light for the photo, the camera pointing down to their shoes all on the centre stage mark. They’re all a bit out of breath and still aware that the task is not yet done – they now must escape security free- but it’s nice just standing there taking it all in.

 

It’s not the mission that really matters to Rapunzel, but the people around her. For so long it’s been just her and Cass and that’s been more than she could ask for, she wouldn’t trade her for anything, but somehow adding Lance and Eugene to the duo feels like the best thing to do. These past two weeks of hanging out with Eugene have been some of the best she’s had since she started college and now with Lance in the mix- it feels as though they just blend together seamlessly. Two halves becoming a whole.

 

“So, are we just going to stand here or?” Cass speaks up, breaking the silence and her sentimental thought she has going on. Cass would disagree with her about this four-piece thing.

 

Lance takes a step back, flinging his arms out to the side, and throwing her a wink. He turns to his phone and begins swiping until the opening beats of a song start to play faintly. “Now my scary friend, we celebrate.”

 

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to dance.” Cass mumbles, planting her head in the palm of her hand.

 

It’s too late. Lance bends to drop his phone on the floor and begins stepping side to side, swinging his hips as he goes. It’s a little off beat and the moves don’t match the heavy bass of the song, but he’s waving his arms and adding a bounce to his steps and it’s _glorious_. He throws his head back as he spins, miming along to the lyrics trying to keep as quiet as possible. When he stops, he stares at Eugene, an eyebrow raised, and starts shimmying over to his giggly friend. Eugene almost looks like he’s doubled over in laughter, a fond smile on his face as he moves closer to join in. Lance throws his arms around Eugene’s neck and leads Eugene in a waltz around the stage.

 

She can see from the corner of her eye Cass has stopped moaning enough to pull out her phone and start filming the pairs attempt at a dance routine. There also may be a hint of a smile on her lips. Rapunzel chooses to watch them fondly, laughing every time Lance gets spun under Eugene’s arm or when Lance picks up Eugene and spins him in a circle. They nearly trip over each other when they both begin running around, leaping and spinning and Eugene even throws in a perfectly executed back flip.

 

“I have to admit” Cassandra says next to her, phone still focused on the boys. “The boy’s got moves.”

 

“Yeah?” she throws her a smile.

 

“Yeah. I like him.” Her head nods towards Lance, who’s now doing some version of the Macarena. “That one though, he’s on my bad list.”

 

Rapunzel snorts, turning away just in time to see Eugene approach her, flashlight now on the floor and his arm already outstretched. “Can I have this dance?” he asks, voice deep and proper and he even bows down to amp up to whole prince vibe.

 

She places her hand across her chest in awe and gives him a small curtsy in return. “You can.”

 

Eugene beams when she puts her hand in his and he starts pulling her further down the stage, spinning her in a circle under his arm. Giving her a tug, he pulls her easily towards him, close enough that they’re chest to chest, and drags her arm up and over until it’s draped around his shoulder. He laces their already joint hands together all the whilst his eyes keep focus on hers. If she thought having him stare at her in the studio was intense, then she has no idea what to call this. Warmth is spreading from her fingertips right down to her toes as he keeps staring, his thumb brushing back and forth gently on her skin. He pulls his teeth between his lips shyly and she is hit with an urge to draw it.

 

“Do you know how to waltz? He asks softly, moving his free hand until it’s resting on her waist. She silently curses her past self for taking off her jacket, his touch burning through the thin material of her shirt. She’s positive she’s moments away from melting.

 

“Not really.”

 

He smiles and she thinks this is the best way to see it, from this close up. “Just follow my lead.”

 

She only has time to nod before he starts moving them around the stage, stepping back and forth and taking them around in a large circle. It’s not a traditional waltz, far from it, and it’s turning into the two of them skipping from left to right instead. She can hear Lance laughing at them as they swing by and even Cass is shouting her praises when Eugene dips her down low. He lifts her back up straight and pulls her tight against his chest, nose brushing hers ever so slightly. She can feel every sharp breath he lets out, both from the breath fanning across her face and his chest rising and falling against hers.

 

“Not bad for your first time.” He whispers it against her and she has to do everything she can to stop from falling over or from saying something stupid.

 

Apparently, she doesn’t have to because suddenly the main theatre lights are being turned on, the four of them turning towards the entrance, Lance scrambling to turn off the music. There’s a security guard stood at the top the stalls, flashlight in one hand and her keys in the other, frowning down at them on the stage.

 

“What are you doing in here?” She calls, sounding annoyed.

 

They all stare at her for a few moments more, a quick glance between themselves, before they all take off running. They abandon their torches and their jackets and jump off the stage, choosing to take the stairs opposite the guard and run towards the entrance at the top. They make it quite easily - security probably not having enough strength to deal with students at this time of night - and are out of the theatre before they know it. They don’t stop running though, they continue full speed as they cross campus, passing the other teams who clap them when they pass. They’re all laughing now, even Cassandra, howling out into the night as they escape, young and free.

 

With all the rush she hadn’t noticed it at first, had just ran with it, but as they cross the road to her building she looks down and sees it, her heart fluttering at the sight.

 

Eugene is still holding her hand.

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                 

                                                                           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! This chapter was so fun to write and there's a couple hints thrown in there of what's to come :)


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